RIDGEBY'S 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 


The  Road  to  Ridgeby's 

By 
Frank  Burlingame  Harris 


Boston 

Small,  Maynard  &  Company 
1901 


10AN  STACK 


Copyright,  1901,  by 

SMALL,  MAYNARD  &  COMPANY 

(Incorporated) 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 


Riggs'  Printing  and  Publishing  Company 
Albany,  U.  S.  A. 


To  Robert  Burns  Peattie 


5GG 


FOREWORD 

WHILE  the  cost  of  a  literary  achieve 
ment  is  not  to  be  considered  in  ar 
riving  at  its  true  artistic  worth,  it 
is  but  human  to  feel  a  deeper  interest  in  that 
book  which  has  made  great  and  costly  demands 
upon  its  author.  Into  the  story  which  the  fol 
lowing  pages  present,  a  young  man  of  large 
ambitions,  of  keen  discernment  and  generous, 
sympathetic  impulses,  put  the  ripest  effort  and 
the  dearest  hopes  of  his  life.  He  lived  to  learn 
that  his  book  had  been  accepted  by  a  publisher, 
but  his  eyes  did  not  see  a  page  of  its  proof. 

Few  words  are  required  to  give  the  ma 
terial  facts  in  the  life  of  Frank  Burlingame 
Harris.  He  was  born  September  26,  1873, 
at  Weedsport,  N.  Y.,  where  his  father,  then 
a  Baptist  minister,  was  preaching.  His  whole 
life,  however,  was  spent  in  the  West  and 
he  belonged  distinctively  to  the  prairie  country. 
The  first  outcroppings  of  the  boy's  talent  ap 
peared  when  attending  the  Omaha  High  School. 
There  he  conducted,  in  association  with  a  com- 
vii 


Foreword 


panion,  a  school  paper  called  "  The  Register. 
Its  editorial  crispness  gave  the  juvenile  journal 
an  unexpected  popularity  and  attracted  the  at 
tention  of  members  of  the  local  newspaper  fra 
ternity.  Among  those  first  to  recognise  his 
promise  of  cleverness  was  Mrs.  Elia  W.  Peat- 
tie,  then  editorial  zvriter  of  the  Omaha  World- 
Herald.  Immediately  following  his  gradua 
tion  from  the  high  school  he  secured  work  as  a 
substitute  reporter  on  that  newspaper. 

His  first  assignments  were  handled  with  so 
fair  a  display  of  resourcefulness,  energy,  and 
literary  skill,  that,  when  he  was  but  eighteen 
years  of  age,  young  Harris  was  sent  to  Lincoln 
to  act  as  a  legislative  correspondent  for  his 
newspaper.  Thereafter  he  was  permanently  con 
nected  ivith  the  World-Herald  staff  until,  in 
1893,  he  came  to  Chicago.  At  the  University 
of  Chicago  he  took  a  special  course  in  English 
and  American  literature  under  Professor  Wil 
kinson.  Meantime  he  made  an  effort  to  estab 
lish  a  magazine  in  Chicago.  It  was  called 
The  Calumet.  Although  young  Harris  dis 
continued  its  publication  after  a  few  months, 
viii 


Foreword 


this  unprofitable  venture  brought  him  the  ac 
quaintance  and  friendship  of  several  western 
writers. 

He  determined  to  write  a  novel  of  farm  life 
in  the  Middle  West,  and  set  about  his  task  with 
characteristic  directness  and  enthusiasm.  This 
impulse  came  to  him  in  the  summer,  and  he 
immediately  left  Chicago  for  the  prairies  of 
Iowa,  where  he  spent  weeks  in  tramping  from 
farm  to  farm,  forming  an  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  life  of  the  country.  The  novel  was 
written  after  his  return  to  Chicago,  in  the  au 
tumn.  He  was  then  engaged  to  accompany  a 
party  of  American  excursionists  on  a  visit  to 
the  Mediterranean  countries,  acting  as  corre 
spondent  for  several  Metropolitan  newspapers. 
His  experience  on  his  trip  in  La  Touraine  were 
gathered  in  a  small  souvenir  volume  called  A 
Pleasure  Pilgrimage. 

At  once  he  returned  to  his  novel  with  renewed 
enthusiasm  and  devotion.  He  applied  himself 
to  the  task  with  intemperate  seal.  When  its 
second  writing  was  finished  he  was  forced  to 
recognize  that  his  health  ivas  shattered.  At 
ix 


Foreword 


once  he  went  ^vith  his  parents  to  the  Boston 
Mountains,  in  Missouri,  but  declined  in  strength 
instead  of  improving.  The  following  summer 
was  spent  very  wretchedly  in  Chicago,  and  the 
winter  saw  him  journeying  in  a  "  mover's 
wagon  "  across  New  Mexico,  making  the  final 
stand  in  the  last  pitiful  campaign  for  life.  Long 
after  his  days  of  extreme  weakness  began,  he 
continued  the  revision  of  his  novel,  declaring 
that,  as  it  was  his  only  contribution  to  a  world 
he  was  soon  to  leave,  he  would  like  it  to  be  the 
best  within  his  power,  no  matter  how  great  the 
cost  in  effort  and  perseverance.  He  was  twenty- 
four  years  old  when  he  put  aside  the  story  which 
is  here  offered,  saying:  "I  can't  think  any 
more! " 

The  personality  of  Frank  Burlingame  Harris 
was  as  striking  as  his  tall  frame  and  strong 
countenance.  Generosity,  sympathy  and  im 
pulsiveness  were  his  most  conspicuous  traits. 

FORREST  CRISSEY. 


Chapter  I 

A  LITTLE  red  store  stands  at  Beverly 
Corners,  where  the  county  road  crosses 
the  Hawkins  turnpike.  Opposite  it  a 
dilapidated  smithy  leans  against  an  old  cotton- 
wood  tree.  The  highways  intersect  each  other 
on  the  summit  of  a  little  ridge.  In  all  direc 
tions  the  undulating  Iowa  prairie  rolls  like  the 
waves  of  a  wind-tossed  ocean.  Rail  fences 
zigzag  here  and  there  cutting  up  the  country 
into  crazy  patchwork.  Dotting  the  landscape 
are  growths  of  stunted  trees,  surrounding,  in 
most  cases,  an  unpretentious  farm  house  with 
its  unpainted  barns  and  straw-thatched  cattle 
sheds.  Tall,  untrimmed  willow  hedges  wave 
in  the  breeze;  a  small  stream  of  murky  water 
flows  sluggishly  through  a  closely  cropped  pas 
ture,  under  a  culvert,  and  is  lost  in  a  cornfield. 
Away  off  to  the  east  the  gilded  dome  of  the 
court  house  in  the  county  seat,  some  ten  miles 
away,  can  be  seen  glimmering  in  the  sunlight. 
The  air  is  heavy  with  silence.  When  the 
i 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wind  rises  a  little  it  brings  with  it  the  rattle  of 
a  distant  mower  that  swells  and  sinks  again. 
At  times  the  bellow  of  a  cow  in  the  next  hollow, 
or  the  low  bark  of  a  dog  as  he  lazily  scratches 
at  some  old  gopher  hole  breaks  in  on  the  still 
ness.  But  all  these  sounds,  with  the  rustle  of 
the  corn  and  the  sighs  of  the  ripening  grain 
are  so  drowsy  that  they  add  only  to  the  op 
pressing  silence. 

The  mellow  haze  of  late  summer  hung  over 
the  prairie.  The  rays  of  the  sun  fell  on  the 
ridges  and  made  deep  shadows  in  the  vales. 
They  beat  down  mercilessly  while  the  green 
leaves  of  corn  crumpled  and  turned  yellow,  and 
the  ripening  grain  scorched  on  the  withering 
stalks. 

The  walls  of  the  little  red  store  warped  and 
crackled  in  the  heat.  The  paint  curled  and 
stood  in  flakes  on  its  baked  sides.  The  striped 
sticks  of  peppermint  in  the  window  were  half- 
melted. 

A  little  old  woman  was  sitting  stiffly  in  a 
straight-backed  chair  by  the  door.  A  faded 

2 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

shawl  was  wrapped  about  her  spare  shoulders. 
A  prim  white  collar  encircled  her  throat.  Her 
black  alpaca  dress  was  buttoned  to  the  chin. 
Her  thin,  sharp  features  looked  fairly  cold.  She 
was  gazing  across  the  road  to  where  a  man  had 
thrown  himself  down  within  the  shade  of  the 
smithy.  He  was  whistling  "  Bon  Ami."  Her 
small  grey  eyes  reflected  her  displeasure.  She 
detested  whistling  and  tramps. 

Two  ragged  urchins  crept  timidly  in  at  the 
door.  They  were  the  Peasley  twins.  The  old 
lady  got  up  and  went  behind  the  counter. 

"  Well!  "  she  exclaimed,  sharply. 

The  twins  each  dug  a  dirty  toe  into  a  crack 
in  the  floor.  One  looked  beseechingly  at  the 
other. 

"  Two  sticks  o'  red  pep'mint,  Miss  Latey," 
faltered  one  of  them,  "  An'  please  don't  give  us 
no  broken  ones." 

"  It's  a  blessed  wonder  you  young  'uns  don't 

spile  yer  teeth  a  eatin'  s'much  sweet  truck," 

the  old  lady  scolded  in  a  high-keyed  voice. 

"  Yer  paw'd  better  be  a  payin'  up  'at  mor'gage 

3 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

o'  his'n  thun  givin'  you  brats  money  to  ruin  yer 
stummicks  with/' 

"  But  please,  Miss  Latey,  to-day's  our 
birfday,  an'  we's  six  years  old,"  whimpered  one 
of  the  twins.  "  An'  paw  give  us  two  cents  t' 
cel'brate  with." 

"Huh!"  sniffed  the  old  lady,  "With  six 
young'uns  lyin'  'round  I  shud  think  he'd  spank 
ye'  all  good  on  yer  birthdays,  sted  o'  wastin' 
pennies  on  yeh;  but  yer  paw  allus  was  a 
fool." 

The  twins  dug  their  little  fat  fists  into  their 
eyes  and  began  to  whimper.  Miss  Latey 
hastily  took  two  sticks  of  peppermint  from  one 
of  the  jars  in  the  window  and  laid  them  on  the 
counter. 

"  Take  yer  truck  an'  run  long,"  she  snapped, 
"  An  don't  yeh  lemme  see  yer  dirty  faces  'round 
here  again  in  a  hurry.  Now  scat !  " 

The  twins  grasped  the  candy  and  laying  down 
their  coppers  scampered  out.  The  old  lady  fol 
lowed  them  to  the  door  and  watched  the  cloud 
of  dust  raised  by  their  pattering  bare  feet  as 
4 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

they  raced  up  the  turnpike.  Her  features  soft 
ened  just  a  trifle,  but  they  hardened  again  when 
she  looked  back  at  the  man  sitting  in  the  shade. 
He  was  still  whistling  "  Bon  Ami." 

The  man  was  lying  outstretched  with  his 
head  propped  against  a  stake  which  had  once 
served  as  a  hitching  post  for  the  smithy.  He 
was  idly  biting  at  a  blade  of  timothy.  On 
closer  inspection  he  did  not  look  so  much  like  a 
tramp.  His  clothing  was  rough  but  compara 
tively  new.  The  straw  hat  resting  by  his  side 
was  wide  of  brim  but  of  good  material.  His 
eyes  were  a  clear  blue,  and  his  face,  covered  by 
a  brown  beard,  was  rather  handsome  than 
otherwise.  He  stopped  whistling  for  a  moment 
and  gazed  lazily  toward  the  little  red  store. 
Then  he  began  whistling  "  Bon  Ami "  again. 

A  democrat  wagon,  drawn  by  two  horses, 
drove  past.  On  the  front  seat  sat  a  coarse- 
featured  man  and  a  ruddy-cheeked  girl.  The 
man  was  laughing  loudly.  The  girl's  eyes  were 
bent  away  in  the  distance. 

A  quaint  figure  came  down  through  the  pas- 
5 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ture.  It  was  an  undersized  woman  clad  in  a 
simple  slip  of  calico.  A  great  sunbonnet  shaded 
her  features.  Her  face,  creased  and  wrinkled, 
was  wreathed  in  smiles.  She  nimbly  climbed 
the  fence  and  approached  the  man.  As  she 
came  up  to  him  the  quaint  smile  on  her  face 
deepened,  and  she  dropped  a  curtsey. 

"They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died,"  she  said,  and  laughed  merrily.  "  Yes, 
they  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an*  died." 

She  dropped  another  curtsey  and  turned  up 
the  road.  When  she  had  gone  about  a  rod  she 
turned  around. 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  and 
died,"  she  called.  "  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes' 
like  little  dogs  an'  died." 

She  laughed  cheerily  again,  and  continued  up 
the  road. 

The  man  smiled  to  himself  and  tapping  his 
head  significantly,  began  whistling  again.  He 
tried  "  Annie  Laurie,"  but  dropped  it  after  a 
few  bars.  He  closed  his  eyes  and  lulled  by  the 
lotus  influence  about  him  sank  into  a  half  doze. 
6 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  was  started  into  life  again  in  a  moment  by 
the  sound  of  a  frantic  voice  piping  up  the  road. 

"  Hey  there !  Catch  him !  Stop  him !  Catch 
holt  the  rope !  Whoa,  there !  Whoa !  " 

He  opened  his  eyes.  A  roan  calf  was  com 
ing  on  the  bias  down  the  turnpike.  His  tail 
was  waving  stiffly  in  the  air.  In  excited  pur 
suit  was  a  stoop-shouldered  old  man,  very  much 
out  of  breath.  His  arms  were  flying  madly, 
and  the  wind  blew  the  long  tails  of  his  coat  out 
behind  him,  like  the  trunk  rack  of  a  stage 
coach. 

"  Stop  him !  Head  him  off !  Catch  holt  the 
rope;"  he  piped  shrilly.  "Hey  there!  Stop 
him!  Whoa  there!  Whoa!" 

The  calf  kicked  up  his  heels  and  made  a  dash 
for  a  break  in  the  fence.  Miss  Latey  hurried 
out  of  her  door  with  a  frantic  "  Shoo ! " 

The  calf  turned  and  rushed  straight  at  the 
man  in  the  shade,  and  shying,  brought  the  long 
rope  that  trailed  in  its  wake  within  easy  reach 
of  his  arm.  The  man  turned  on  his  side, 
reached  quietly  out,  clutched  the  rope,  and  giv- 
7 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ing  it  a  quick  twist  around  the  hitching  post, 
held  it.  The  calf  came  to  a  sudden  stop  and 
sprawled  heels  over  head  on  the  ground.  The 
old  man  came  up. 

"  Stop  him !  Catch  him !  Turn  him !  "  he 
gasped.  "  Catch  holt  the  rope !  Head  him  off ! 
Whoa  there!  Whoa!" 

He  was  blowing  like  a  porpoise. 

"  Catch  him !  Catch  holt  the  rope !  "  he  sput 
tered.  "  Head  him— !" 

"  I  guess  that  I  have  filled  all  your  require 
ments,"  the  man  in  the  shade  said  calmly,  as  he 
easily  resisted  a  last  attempt  of  the  calf  to  break 
away.  "  I  have  stopped  him,  and  turned  him, 
and  headed  him  off,  and  caught  hold  of  the 
rope.  Here,  take  him." 

"  C-C-Ca-tch  him — I  mean,  thank  ye," 
puffed  the  old  man,  as  he  wiped  his  face  with  a 
great  red  cotton  handkerchief.  "  My  Land !  I 
haint  done  sech  a  heap  o'  runnin'  sence  Bull 
Run,  I'll  be  Gummed  ef  I  have.  Th'  Gummed 
calf  bruk  away  fr'm  me  up  there  by  Si  John 
son's  place  an'  I  thought  I  never  was  a  goin'  t' 
8 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ketch  4m.  Ef  they'd  a  tuk  my  advice — Whoa 
there !  Whoa ! "  he  called  soothingly  to  the 
calf. 

He  took  the  rope  and  gingerly  loosened  it 
from  the  hitching  post,  uttering  soothing 
"  Whoas."  The  calf  had  a  mild  look  like 
twilight  in  its  eyes,  but  starting  suddenly  into 
life  again,  it  gave  its  tail  a  flirt  and  dashed  up 
the  turnpike.  The  old  man  held  desperately  to 
the  rope  and  went  reluctantly  but  firmly  in  the 
wake  of  the  calf. 

The  man  in  the  shade  smiled  to  himself  and 
began  again  to  whistle  "  Bon  Ami." 

The  afternoon  was  waning.  The  sun  was  al 
ready  below  the  cottonwoods  in  the  west  and 
was  casting  a  shadow  of  rubies  over  the  wheat 
heads.  The  men  were  leaving  the  fields  and 
with  their  teams  now  and  then  appeared  in 
sight  on  the  ridges  only  to  disappear  down  the 
swales.  The  horses  hung  their  heads  from  fa 
tigue;  the  men  tramped  stolidly  behind  them. 
The  tramp-like  stranger  watched  them  indo 
lently,  his  eyes  following  now  one  group  and 
9 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

then  another.  The  crows  began  to  rise  from 
the  corn  fields  and  fly  in  flocks  toward  the 
north.  The  little  breeze  that  had  been  blowing 
went  down.  The  silence  became  denser. 

A  low  creaking  rumble  sounded  from  up  the 
road.  A  heavy  farm  wagon  laden  with  tiling 
came  in  sight.  So  heavy  was  the  load  that  the 
horses  could  scarcely  pull  it.  Their  drooping 
heads  and  lagging  gait  showed  their  fatigue. 
Every  time  they  faltered  the  driver  gave  them 
a  cut  with  a  long  "blacksnake"  whip.  He 
was  a  huge  swarthy-faced  man  with  a  growth 
of  bristling  whiskers  on  his  face.  His  features 
were  heavy  and  rugged,  and  his  eyes  were  hard. 
He  wore  no  hat.  His  head  was  covered  by  a 
shock  of  black  tangled  hair,  in  which  the  dust 
had  settled.  His  coarse  gingham  shirt  was 
open  at  the  front,  displaying  his  brown,  shaggy 
chest. 

He  came  to  the  corners  where  the  horses 
lagged  and  all  but  stopped. 

"  Gee  up !  Dam  yeh !  "  he  shouted  as  he  gave 
each  of  them  a  cut  with  the  whip.  "  Gee  up !  " 
10 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  stranger  rose  from  his  seat  in  the  shade. 
He  showed  himself  to  be  tall  and  broad  shoul 
dered.  Two  long  strides  brought  him  into  the 
middle  of  the  road. 

"  Stop  whipping  those  horses,"  he  said 
quietly. 

The  driver  turned  on  him  savagely. 

"What  th'  Hell's  it  to  you!"  he  snarled. 
"  Ther  mine  an'  I'll  whip  'em  if  I  want  t'  an' 
you  too  ef  yeh  put  in  any  o'  yer  lip.  Gee  up ! 
Gee — !  "  and  he  struck  each  of  the  horses  an 
other  blow. 

The  young  man,  without  a  word,  turned  to 
the  wagon  and  putting  his  foot  on  one  of  the 
hind  wheels  began  to  clamber  up.  The  driver 
turned  with  an  oath  and  springing  upon  the 
tiling,  dealt  him  two  terrific  blows  full  in  the 
face. 

"  I'll  teach  yeh !  "  he  shouted.  "  111  teach  yeh 
'at  I'm  Hi  Simms  an'  owns  my  own  horses." 

Two  great  welts  rose  where  the  whip 
struck.  The  man  was  staggered  for  a  moment, 
but  recovering  instantly,  sprang  forward.  He 
ii 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

received  another  stinging  blow,  but  without 
faltering  reached  out  and  seizing  Simms  by  the 
waist  before  he  could  raise  the  whip  again, 
hurled  him  to  the  ground.  Leaping  after  he 
wrenched  the  whip  from  Simms'  hand.  With 
an  oath  the  driver  regained  his  feet  and  sprang 
at  his  assailant. 

"  Z-z-z-z-z-z-zud." 

The  whip  whistled  through  the  air  and 
curled  around  Simms'  shoulders.  He  uttered  a 
snarl  and  sprang  again. 

"  Z-z-z-z-z-z-zud." 

Again  the  whip  wrapped  itself  with  a  hiss 
around  Simms'  shoulders.  Snarling  and  curs 
ing  he  attempted  again  and  again  to  reach  his 
antagonist.  Each  time  the  young  man  dodged 
him  as  easily  as  a  grasshopper  eludes  a  cat, 
while  the  rain  of  blows  about  Simms'  body  con 
tinued  without  a  miss.  Roaring  with  pain 
and  anger  the  driver  was  finally  whipped  into 
submission.  He  stood  still  fairly  foaming  at 
the  mouth. 

"  Do  you  give  up?  "  he  was  asked  quietly. 
12 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Dam  ye !  "  snarled  Simms. 

"  Then  unhitch  your  horses  and  drive  them 
home  without  the  wagon.  That  can  stay  here 
until  you  come  back  with  a  fresh  team.  I  will 
guard  it  until  you  return." 

Simms  glared  at  him  for  a  moment,  then 
went  to  the  wagon  and  unhitching  the  horses, 
started  cursing  up  the  road. 

The  young  man  watched  him  until  he  had 
gone  some  distance.  Then  he  turned  in  search 
of  water  to  apply  to  the  welts  on  his  face.  They 
were  smarting  like  fire. 


Chapter  II 


THE  excitement  of  this  struggle  with 
Simms  had  made  the  young  man  ob 
livious  to  everything  else.  Turning  he 
found  that  his  engagement  had  not  been  with 
out  a  spectator.  A  sleek,  round  little  horse, 
hitched  to  a  broken-down  wagon,  had  halted 
just  behind  him  and  gone  to  sleep.  The  occu 
pant  of  the  carriage  was  not  so  listless.  When 
the  young  man's  eyes  fell  upon  him  he  was 
clambering  to  the  ground  with  what  speed  the 
weight  of  some  seventy  years  would  allow.  A 
frayed  whip  with  a  broken  tip  was  grasped  in 
his  hand.  He  was  thin  and  bent  and  had  hover 
ing  about  him  the  air  of  a  woman.  There  was 
a  flash  in  his  faded  eyes  and  as  he  reached  the 
ground  he  gripped  tighter  the  handle  of  the 
whip  while  his  jaws  shut  together  with  a  snap 
of  determination.  As  he  gazed  at  the  young 
man  before  him,  and  then  at  the  retreating  form 
of  Simms,  the  expression  on  his  face  lightened. 
A  broad  grin  slowly  spread  over  his  features 
and  he  bobbed  his  head  up  and  down. 
14 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Licked  him,  by  Dumb,  didn't  yeh,"  he 
chuckled,  as  he  advanced  with  a  ha!lf-limp. 
"  I  was  a  gittin'  here  'uz  lively's  I  cud,  but  my, 
ye'  didn't  need  no  help."  He  bobbed  his  head 
up  and  down  again  and  chuckled. 

He  received  no  reply.  The  cuts  on  the  young 
man's  face  were  inflaming  rapidly  and  had 
swollen  until  he  could  scarcely  see  out  of  his 
eyes. 

The  grin  on  the  old  man's  face  deepened  as 
he  watched  Simms  plodding  in  the  wake  of  his 
horses.  He  slapped  his  knee  gleefully. 

"  That  did  me  a  heap  o'  good,  Dumb  ef  it 
didn't.  You  throwed  him  off'n  that  box  too 
pretty  for  anything.  How  he  did  howl.  Guess 
he  knows  how  whippin'  dumb  brutes  feels 
now."  He  chuckled  again  and  bobbed  his  head. 

Then  he  noticed  the  welts  on  the  young 
man's  face.  He  stopped  chuckling  and  the 
broad  grin  on  his  face  gave  way  to  a  look  of 
sympathy. 

"  You  didn't  git  off  scot-free  though,  did 
ye',"  he  exclaimed,  solicitously.  "  Them's 
mighty  ugly  cuts  and  must  smart  powerful. 
15 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Come  down  here  to  the  creek  an'  we'll  put  some 
water  on  'em.  Burn  pretty  lively?  "  he  asked, 
as  he  turned  towards  the  little  stream. 

The  young  man  admitted  that  they  did. 

When  they  came  to  the  banks,  the  old  man 
reached  around  to  one  of  the  tail  pockets  of  his 
shiny  black  coat  and  took  out  a  folded  hand 
kerchief.  Seizing  it  by  one  corner  he  gave  it  a 
flirt  that  opened  it.  Then  stooping  stiffly  he 
wet  it  in  the  water  and  carefully  applied  it  to 
the  welts.  He  was  as  gentle  as  a  woman.  He 
was  thanked  simply. 

"There,  guess  that's  better,  haint  it,"  he 
asked  as  he  wet  the  handkerchief  and  re-applied 
it.  The  grin  came  over  his  face  again. 

"Wonder  ef  Simms'  got  anybody  t'  water 
his  cuts  ?  "  he  chuckled.  "  You  gave  him  a  few 
licks  that  humped  him  mightily." 

"  I'm  sorry  that  I  struck  him  so  hard,"  the 
young  man  said. 

"He's  tough  an*  kin  stand  it.  Guess  it'll 
do  'm  more  good'n  harm  anyway.  He's  kinder 
bullied  this  section  for  sometime  an'  it  does  me 
16 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

good  t'  see  'im  licked.  Guess  he'll  be  kinder 
keerful  who's  'round  next  time  he  goes  to  lick 
ing  horses." 

The  old  man  chattered  on,  now  tenderly  as 
he  applied  the  wet  handkerchief  and  then 
chuckling  to  himself  and  bobbing  his  head  up 
and  down  as  he  feasted  his  memory  on  the 
whipping  of  Hi  Simms. 

The  cold  applications  allayed  somewhat  the 
inflammation  in  the  young  man's  face  and  by 
the  time  Simms  returned  with  a  fresh  team  he 
was  quite  comfortable.  The  old  man  was  the 
first  to  see  Simms  far  up  the  road. 

"  How  do  yeh  like  whippin'  horses,  Hi  ? 
Taint  s'much  fun  uz  yeh  thought  it  was,  be 
it?"  he  jeered  when  Simms  had  come  within 
hearing  distance.  "  Met  yer  match  that  time, 
didn't  yeh,"  he  chuckled,  "  Wait  till  th'  boys 
hear  'bout  it." 

Simms  did  not  reply.  He  hitched  the  team 
to  the  wagon  and  climbed  upon  the  seat.  Then 
he  turned  sullenly  around.  His  dark  face  was 
ugly  with  a  frown  of  hate. 

17 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Dam  yeh!"  he  snarled.  "Til  play  even 
with  yeh  fer  this." 

Clucking  to  his  horses  he  drove  off.  The  old 
man  jeered  after  him. 

"  Well,  I  must  be  goin',"  he  exclaimed  turn 
ing  with  an  awakening  energy,  to  his  wagon. 
"  I  guess  we're  done  here.  Going'  up  th'  road  a 
piece?" 

The  young  man  told  him  he  did  not  know. 

"  Where  yeh  goin'  ?  "  the  old  man  asked. 

"  Nowhere,"  he  was  answered. 

The  old  man  looked  surprised  and  puzzled. 

"  That's  a  good  ways  off,"  he  replied.  "  Bet 
ter  git  in  with  me  an'  ride  a  piece.  Where'd 
yeh  cum  from  ?  " 

"  Same  place." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  Nowhere." 

The  old  man  opened  his  eyes. 

"That's  mighty  fur  off,  too.  How'd  yeh 
cum,  walk?  " 

"  Part  of  the  way." 

"An  th'  rest?" 

18 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Rode." 

"What  on?" 

"  Shank's  mare." 

"  Purty  good !   Purty  good !  " 

The  old  man  grinned,  bobbed  his  head  and 
slapped  his  knee. 

"  Cum  fr'm  nowhere,  goin'  nowhere,  walked 
part  o'  th'  way,  an'  rode  th'  rest  on  Shank's 
mare.  Purty  good!  Purty  good."  He  put 
back  his  head  and  laughed  loudly.  "  Well  ef 
you  haint  th'  funniest  feller  I  ever  see."  He 
laughed  again. 

"  Ef  yeh  haint  goin'  nowhere  don't  s'pose 
it  makes  much  diff'runce  jes'  when  yeh  git 
there,  so  yeh'd  better  git  in  an'  go  up  t'  my 
place  t'  supper.  Emily'll  be  glad  t'  see  yeh. 
There  haint  much  t'  eat,  but  th'  feller  'at  kin 
lick  Hi  Simms  is  welcome  t'  his  sheer  of  it. 
Better  come  long." 

He  started  for  the  wagon.     It  was  a  quaint 

figure  he  cut  as  he  half  limped  towards  it.   His 

spare  form  was  clad  in  a  shiny  suit  of  black 

diagonal  considerably  too  big  for  him.    It  was 

19 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wrinkled  and  creased  and  had  an  odor  of  cam 
phor  and  tobacco  hanging  about  it.  He  wore 
a  turndown  collar  and  a  black  cravat.  A 
rumpled  beaver  hat  was  tilted  back  on  his  head. 
A  fringe  of  white  hair  straggled  down  all 
around  it. 

He  climbed  into  the  wagon  and  turned 
back. 

"Better  cum  'long/'  he  repeated.  "No 
trouble  'tall.  Emily'll  be  glad  t'  see  yeh." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  the  young  man 
followed  him  into  the  wagon.  The  little  mare 
was  awakened  with  a  chirrup.  They  rode  a 
little  ways  in  silence. 

"  I'm  Hiram  Ridgeby,"  the  old  man  said 
abruptly  as  he  flecked  a  fly  off  the  flanks  of  the 
mare.  "  I've  got  a  farm  up  here  next  t'  Si  John 
son's.  I'm  sup'viser  o'  Hawkins  township  and 
chairman  o'  th'  school  committee.  Now  who 
might  you  be  ?  " 

"  Abraham  Lincoln." 

"Pshaw,  now  re'lly?" 

"  I  might  be,  but  some  how  I'm  not." 
20 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  old  man  bobbed  his  head  again  and 
chuckled. 

"  Purty  good!  Purty  good!  Got  a  name?  " 

"Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Newton  Mills." 

Ridgeby  pushed  his  hat  further  back  on  his 
head  and  held  out  a  wrinkled  hand.  Mills  took 
it. 

"  Newton  Mills  I'm  proud  t'  see  yeh.  As 
sup'viser  o'  Hawkins  township  an'  chairman  o' 
the  school  committee  I  bid  yeh  welcome." 
Ridgeby's  voice  became  oratorical.  "  Any  man 
'at  kin  whale  Hi  Simms  deserves  an'  shall  re 
ceive  our  humble  hospitality.  How  old  be 
yeh?" 

"  Twenty-four." 

"R'publican?" 

"  No." 

"Dem'crat?" 

"  No." 

"  Ah,  Pop'list?  "  The  old  man's  face  lighted. 

"  No." 

21 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  What  be  yeh  then,  Pro'bition  er  Woman's 
suffragist?" 

"  Neither." 

"  My  Land.    What  be  yeh  then?  " 

"  Presbyterian." 

"  Purty  good !  Purty  good !  "  Ridgeby  bobbed 
his  head  and  chuckled. 

"Workin'  at  it  very  hard?" 

"  Not  very." 

"  Sort  of  a  muscular  Christian,  haint  yeh." 

"  More  muscular  than  Christian." 

"  Well,  yeh  got  in  some  good  licks  this  after 
noon  'at  must  'a  been  heard  in  heaven."  He 
gave  vent  to  his  customary  chuckle. 

The  old  man  rattled  on,  going  from  religion 
to  crops  and  from  crops  to  politics  and  back 
again.  The  old  wagon  rattled  on  as  well.  It 
seemed  to  Mills  that  at  every  turn  of  the  wheels 
the  old  trap  must  fall  into  pieces.  Ridgeby  was 
compelled  to  raise  his  voice  at  times  to  be  heard 
above  the  trackle-trackle-trackle  of  the  wheels. 
The  fact  that  Mills  took  no  particular  part  in 
the  conversation  did  not  disturb  the  old  man 

22 


TKe  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

seriously.  He  probably  considered  himself 
fully  competent  to  do  all  the  talking  and  do  it 
well.  Now  and  then  his  companion  would 
reply  to  a  direct  question  in  a  manner  that 
would  have  been  impudent  had  it  not  been 
for  the  peculiarly  good-natured  way  in  which 
he  spoke.  These  odd  answers  seemed  to  amuse 
Ridgeby  more  and  more  and  before  they  had 
ridden  very  far  he  had  exhausted  himself  in 
chuckles. 

The  sun  was  just  disappearing  below  the 
swells  in  the  west.  It  was  of  the  hue  of  blood 
and  painted  the  bank  of  clouds  behind  which  it 
was  setting  a  glorious  orange  that  was  deep 
ening  into  crimson.  The  air  was  heavy  and 
tremulous.  The  birds,  whose  songs  had  been 
heard  earlier  in  the  day  from  the  tops  of  the 
rail  fences  or  from  the  swaying  pinnacle  of  a 
cornstalk,  were  voiceless.  Now  they  perched 
silently  on  the  fences  and  pecked  industriously 
at  the  wood  or  bobbed  about  on  the  bending 
stalks  as  though  waiting  to  be  rocked  to  sleep. 
Now  and  then  a  quail  would  start  out  from 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  dusty  weeds  that  lined  the  road  and  run  for 
a  ways  ahead  of  the  mare. 

"  That's  my  place,  over  yon,"  said  Ridgeby, 
pointing  with  his  whip,  after  they  had  ridden 
some  time.  The  fat  little  mare  pricked  up  her 
ears  and  broke  into  a  trot.  "  We're  jes'  comin' 
t'  my  south  line.  That  stun  marks  it."  Ridgeby 
leaned  out  and  swept  his  hand  proudly  in  a 
semi-circle  "  There's  th'  bes'  piece  o'  land  in 
lowy.  Nary  a  wet  acre  on  th'  hull  place,  an' 
good  for  fifty  bushels  t'  th'  acre  year  in  an'  year 
out." 

They  turned  up  a  lane  lined  with  waving 
willow  trees,  that  led  off  from  the  main  road. 
Before  them  stood  a  one-story  stone  house  with 
a  frame  addition  built  out  on  one  side  of  it. 
Before  the  front  door  towered  two  giant  wal 
nut  trees.  A  white  picket  fence  surrounded  the 
house.  Some  ways  off  to  the  left,  at  the  far  end 
of  a  large  yard,  stood  a  great  red  barn.  The 
little  mare  turned  in  at  the  gate  and  coming 
down  to  a  walk  headed  towards  it.  A  great 
Newfoundland  dog,  gray  and  stiff,  rose  from 
24 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  kitchen  door  and  trotted  in  the  wake  of 
the  buggy.  As  they  passed  the  house  Mills 
heard  a  girl's  sweet  voice  singing  "  Bon 
Ami." 

"  That's  Sibley  Ann,"  Ridgeby  explained  as 
the  mellow  notes  rising  higher  floated  out  the 
open  window. 

Mills  turned  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  girl's 
form. 

A  pig  sprang  up  from  the  road. 

"  Chase  him,  Towser,"  Ridgeby  shouted. 

The  pig  ran  squealing  towards  a  pair  of  bars 
that  led  into  a  meadow,  the  dog  in  eager  pur 
suit.  The  pig  won  the  race  and  the  dog  with 
a  parting  bark  returned  with  his  tail  waving 
triumphantly.  The  mare  stopped  at  the  open 
door  of  the  barn. 

"  Whoa !  "  called  Ridgeby.  The  command 
did  not  seem  to  be  addressed  to  the  mare. 

"  Comin'  " 

The  word  came  wandering  from  somewhere 
out  of  the  depths  of  the  barn.  The  voice  was 
deep  and  sounded  as  though  the  speaker  had 
25 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

started  to  say  something  and  then  had  changed 
his  mind  and  swallowed  it. 

They  clambered  out  of  the  wagon.  A  great 
forkful  of  hay  fell  on  the  barn  floor  before 
them,  followed  rapidly  by  two  more.  Then 
there  came  another  muffled,  half  swallowed, 
call. 

"Lookout!" 

A  pitchfork  fell  on  the  heap.  It  was  followed 
by  a  man.  He  was  covered  with  chaff  and 
stood  clearing  it  from  his  eyes.  A  handful 
of  it  rested  on  his  shock  of  red  hair.  He  was 
tall  and  husky.  A  rough  good  humour  shone 
on  his  face.  There  was  a  twinkle  in  his  small 
blue  eyes.  He  was  Lilt  Murdock,  Hiram 
Ridgeby's  man  of  all-work. 

"  This  is  Newton  Mills,  Lilt,"  said  Ridgeby, 
abruptly,  as  an  introduction. 

Lilt  looked  Newton  over  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Kin  yeh  wras'le,"  he  asked  after  he  had 
completed  the  inventory. 

Ridgeby  chuckled. 

"  Kin  he  wras'le.  Well  I  shud  say  he  cud 
26 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wras'le.  He  jes'  gave  Hi  Simms  th'  wuss 
wolloping  he  ever  got.  Handled  him  like  he 
was  a  cat.  Wras'le!  I  never  see  nothin'  like 
it" 

Lilt's  eyes  opened  but  he  sniffed  disdainfully. 
He  spoke  abruptly. 

"  Licked  Hi  Simms !     Don't  b'lieve  it." 

"  Licked  him  till  he  howled  for  mercy," 
chuckled  Ridgeby,  bobbing  his  head.  "  An'  did 
it  easy  'uz  breakin'  yearlin'  steers,  too." 

"  Don't  b'lieve  it,"  Lilt  repeated,  with  con 
viction.  "  Why  he  looks  like  a  city  chap." 

Mills  smiled. 

"  He  did  it,  Lilt,  Dumb  ef  he  didn't.  I  seen 
th'  hull  thing  m'self.  Believe  he  cud  throw  you, 
Lilt,  Dumb,  ef  I  don't." 

Lilt  put  back  his  head  and  laughed  uproari 
ously.  Then  he  put  his  arms  akimbo  and 
looked  down  at  Mills  disdainfully. 

"  Do  you  want  to  try  throwin'  me,  Sonny," 
he  laughed.     "  It's  mighty  dang'rous  biz'ness. 
Ther  haint  nobody  in  Hawkins  county  'at  kin 
stand  up  with  me  three  minutes." 
27 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Mills  smiled  with  easy  confidence. 

"  I'll  try  it." 

"  Come  on  then." 

Scarcely  were  the  words  spoken  when  light 
ning  like  Newton  sprang  forward.  There  was 
a  quick  clasp,  a  turn  of  the  knee,  a  twist,  and 
Lilt  found  himself  hurled  bodily  on  the  pile  of 
hay.  He  got  up  clumsily.  There  was  a  look 
of  surprise  on  his  face  and  a  startled  tone  of 
protest  in  his  voice. 

"  Hey  there !  "  he  exclaimed  ruefully.  "  Yeh 
haint  totin'  fair.  I  didn't  know  yeh  was 
comin  '." 

Ridgeby  chuckled  and  bobbed  his  head. 

"  He  throwed  yeh  square,  Lilt,  Dumb  ef  he 
didn't,  he  throwed  yeh  square." 

"  He  can't  do  it  again,"  Lilt  replied  dog 
gedly. 

"  Look  out  then,"  laughed  Newton.  "  I  will 
give  you  fair  warning  this  time  that  I  am 
coming." 

It  was  not  so  easily  done  again.  Lilt  planted 
himself  firmly.  He  caught  Mills  with  his 
28 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

favourite  hold  and  gave  him  a  toss  that  had 
rarely  failed  to  bring  his  opponents  to  grass. 
What  was  his  surprise  to  see  this  agile  fellow 
turn  in  the  air  like  a  cat  and  alight  on  his  feet. 
Lilt  was  beginning  to  get  a  little  angry  and  for 
getting  discretion  he  sprang  wildly  forward. 
Mills  easily  eluded  him  and  with  a  trip 
sent  the  hired  man  sprawling  to  the  floor. 
The  fall  was  a  heavy  one  and  Lilt  got 
up  slowly.  Ridgeby  bobbed  his  head  and 
chuckled. 

"  Yeh've  found  yer  master,  Lilt,  yeh've 
found  yer  master.  He  beat  ye  fair." 

Lilt  stood  for  a  moment  pulling  at  his  red 
poll.  Then  he  put  back  his  head  and  laughed 
good  naturedly.  He  advanced  towards  Mills 
and  held  out  a  great  hand. 

"  Yeh  beat  me  fair,"  he  laughed,  as  Newton 
took  his  hand.  "  Yeh  beat  me  fair.  I  want 
yeh  t'  show  me  how  yeh  did  it.  I  want  t'  try  it 
on  the  Graham  boys,  e-e-e-e-e-e-o-uch!!! 

Lilt  gave  a  yell  of  pain.  He  had  tried  his 
favourite  game  of  squeezing  a  hand  until  its 
29 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

owner  shouted  for  mercy,  but  had  found  his 
own  horny  palm  caught  in  a  grip  that  fairly 
made  the  bones  crackle. 

"Hully  Gee!  Let  up,"  he  cried.  "  Yeh'd 
better  show  me  that,  too." 

Just  then  a  horn  blew  at  the  house  and 
Ridgeby,  chuckling,  turned  away  telling  New 
ton  to  follow  him.  Lilt  led  the  mare  into  the 
barn. 


Chapter   III 


THEIR  way  led  up  through  the  barn 
yard,  over  the  bars,  and  by  a  narrow 
path  through  a  garden.  They  stopped  at 
a  bench  by  the  door  to  wash.  Ridgeby  began  to 
recount  some  feat  of  wrestling  he  had  accom 
plished  in  his  younger  days.  Newton  pre 
tended  to  pay  him  an  interested  attention,  but 
in  reality  he  was  listening  to  the  sounds  that 
came  from  within;  the  rattle  of  a  stove  lid, 
mingled  with  the  singing  of  a  kettle,  and  a 
girl's  voice  humming  "  Bon  Ami.v  After  dry 
ing  their  hands  and  faces  on  a  towel  that  hung 
from  a  nail  above  the  bench  Ridgeby  opened 
the  door.  A  savory  odour  was  wafted  out. 
They  entered. 

A  little  woman  so  bent  she  seemed  almost  a 
hunchback  turned  from  the  stove.  Her  fea 
tures  were  plain  and  disfigured  by  a  great  mole 
on  her  left  cheek.  Newton  forgot  the  homeli 
ness  of  the  face  in  the  bright  smile  of  hospi 
tality  that  lighted  it.  She  came  forward 
31 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

nervously,    wiping   her   hands   on   her   calico 
apron. 

"  Step  right  in,"  exclaimed  Ridgeby  cor 
dially.  "  Em'ly,  this  is  Newton  Mills.  Picked 
him  up  down  th'  road  a  piece  an'  brung  'im 
'long.  Thought  I'd  give  'im  one  taste  o'  good 
eatin' !  "  The  old  man  chuckled  and  bobbed 
his  head. 

"  How-de-do !  "  she  said,  extending  a  thin 
hand  which  Newton  shook  as  delicately  as 
though  it  were  china.  "  Never  mind,  Hiram ;  he 
allus  wuz  a  flatt'rer  ever  since  I  married 
him." 

Newton  started  to  excuse  his  unannounced 
intrusion  when  he  was  interrupted  by  a  crum 
pling  of  paper  from  behind  the  stove.  A 
withered  old  man  clad  in  faded  army  blue  shuf 
fled  forward;  a  grotesque  figure.  He  was  en 
tirely  bald  and  his  gums  were  toothless. 

'Til  be  Gummed  ef  'taint  th'  feller  'at  stopped 

th'   ca-af,"  he  piped.      "  Gum  yeh,   I'm  glad 

t'  see  yeh.    I'd  a  stopped  a  little  longer,  but  th' 

ca-af  want  willin'."    He  spread  his  drooping 

32 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

lips  in  a  grin.  His  speech  was  a  high  keyed 
drawl;  his  laugh  a  cackle. 

"  Ef  they'd  a  tuk  my  advice — ,"  he  began  in 
a  complaining  voice. 

Ridgeby  hastily  interrupted  him. 

"  Newton  Mills  this's  Reuben." 

Reuben  grinned  again  and  shuffling  a  step 
back  made  a  stiff  bow. 

"  Ef  they'd  a  tuk  my  advice — " 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  lost  on  Newton. 
A  girl  entered  the  room  carrying  two  pans  of 
newly  moulded  bread.  The  sleeves  of  her  ging 
ham  dress  were  rolled  up  to  the  shoulder  dis 
playing  two  white,  plump  arms.  The  hummed 
notes  of  "  Bon  Ami  "  were  still  on  her  lips. 
Newton  recognised  her  at  once  as  the  girl  who 
had  passed  him  with  a  companion  during  the 
afternoon.  Ridgeby  introduced  her  as  his 
daughter,  Sibley.  The  girl  greeted  him  easily 
and  simply  and  passing  him  went  to  the  stove 
where  she  laid  down  the  pans  of  bread  and 
covered  them  with  a  cloth.  Newton's  eyes 
followed  her.  He  was  looking  at  her  arms. 
33 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

They  were  round  and  white  and  delicately 
formed  though  strong.  A  dimple  played  about 
each  elbow.  Her  figure  was  supple  and  ex 
quisitely  moulded  and  her  step  light  and  grace 
ful.  She  raised  her  eyes  and  caught  Newton 
staring  at  her.  She  neither  blushed  nor  ap 
peared  confused  but  turned  to  her  pans  again. 
A  heavy  tramping  at  the  door  announced  Lilt's 
entrance.  Mrs.  Ridgeby  invited  them  to  "set 
up."  They  took  their  places.  The  girl  came 
forward  rolling  down  her  sleeves.  Newton 
could  not  resist  a  last  look.  He  was  certain  he 
had  never  seen  prettier  arms. 

Mills  started  to  take  the  vacant  seat  nearest 
to  him  but  was  stopped  by  a  sudden  exclama 
tion  from  his  hostess.  There  was  a  note  of 
startled  pain  in  it. 

"  No !  No !  Not  there,"  she  exclaimed  hur 
riedly.  "  Here,  sit  here.  That's  Jim's  place," 
she  added. 

Newton  took  the  seat  pointed  out  to  him.  He 
looked  askance  at  the  number  of  vacant  chairs. 
Ridgeby  mumbled  an  explanation. 
34 


The  ROAD  to  RIDG.EBY'S 

"  We  ust  t'  have  children,  yeh  see,  an*  when 
they'uz  took  from  us  we  kinder  kept  right  on 
settin'  their  places  to  the  table.  It  don't  seem 
so  lonesome  like  somehow." 

"  Ef  they'd  a  tuk  my  advice,"  shrilled  Reu 
ben — 

"  They'd  never  had  no  children,"  Lilt  inter 
rupted. 

Newton  laughed. 

The  old  man  covered  his  confusion  by  mut 
tering  a  blessing.  At  its  end  Lilt  caught  up 
his  fork  and  hitching  himself  from  his  chair 
deftly  speared  a  slice  of  bread  from  a  platter  in 
the  center  of  the  table.  The  meat  and  potatoes 
were  started  on  their  procession  around  the 
board.  Newton  was  invited  to  "  sail  right  in." 
All  became  at  once  too  busy  eating  to  waste 
breath  in  talking.  Newton  glanced  around  the 
room. 

It  was  of  low  ceiling.  The  walls  were 
washed  a  dark  yellow.  Two  or  three  cheap 
prints  were  hung  upon  them.  One  was  a  wood 
cut  of  Daniel  Webster ;  the  other  was  a  picture 
35 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

of  Washington  taking  farewell  of  his  troops. 
There  was  one  rocking  chair  in  the  room.  The 
rest  were  low,  straight-backed,  with  heavy  cane 
seats  woven  in  wedge-shaped  quarters. 

But  Newton  could  not  keep  his  eyes  from 
wandering  back  to  the  face  of  Sibley  opposite 
him.  There  was  a  sweetness  in  her  features 
that  charmed  him.  Her  complexion  was  per 
fect.  The  smooth  whiteness  of  her  skin  set  off 
the  ruddy  glow  of  her  cheeks.  Her  eyes  had 
the  reflection  of  the  summer  sky  in  them.  When 
she  now  and  then  reached  him  something  he 
was  surprised  to  see  how  soft  and  white  were 
her  hands.  He  marked  the  difference  in  her 
demeanour  from  that  of  the  rest  of  the  family ; 
so  easy  was  it  compared  with  the  noisy  haste 
of  Lilt;  the  untaught  awkwardness  of  her 
mother  and  the  childish  clatter  of  the  old  man 
Reuben.  She  was  perfect  in  her  own  deport 
ment,  and  oblivious  to  the  ignorance  around 
her.  Newton  could  not  help  admiring  the 
girl. 

"  What  d'yeh  guess  I  caught  this  young  man 

36 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

a  doin'  ?  "  Ridgeby  asked  after  he  had  worn  off 
the  sharp  edge  of  his  appetite. 

"  I  hope  'twant  nahthin'  wrong,"  his  wife  re 
turned. 

Newton's  exploit  with  Hi  Simms  was  re 
counted.  Mrs.  Ridgeby  looked  at  him  admir 
ingly. 

The  girl  lifted  her  eye  lashes  and  gave  him  a 
quick,  sharp  glance.  It  was  the  first  sign  of  in 
terest  in  him  she  had  betrayed.  Her  glance  was 
one  of  searching  inquiry.  She  dropped  her 
eyes  again  but  said  nothing. 

"  I  hope  yeh  didn't  get  hurt  much,"  ex 
claimed  her  mother.  "  I'd  better  put  some 
'intment  on  them  cuts  after  supper.  I  'uz  a 
wonderin'  what  had  happened  to  yeh." 

"  Ef  folks  ud  take  my  advice,"  broke  out 
Reuben — 

"  Pass  the  meat,  Rube,"  Lilt  exclaimed. 

The  old  man  fumbled  with  the  plate  and  for 
got  to  finish  his  sentence. 

"  Lilt  didn't  b'lieve  he  dun  it  till  Mills  threw 
him  ofFn  his  feet  a  couple  o'  times,"  chuckled 
37 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Ridgeby,  as  he  bobbed  his  head.  "  Dumb  ef 
he  didn't  make  Lilt  think  he  want  nahthin'  but 
a  baby." 

"  Did  yeh  get  throwed,  Lilt?  "  Mrs.  Ridgeby 
asked. 

Lilt  filled  his  mouth  to  completion  and  gave 
it  his  entire  attention. 

"  I  hope  yeh  did,"  she  continued.  "  Ef  yeh'd 
only  get  throwed  a  few  times  yeh  won't  be  a 
wantin'  t'  wras'le  every  body  'at  comes  on  th' 
place." 

"  Ef  folks  ud  take  my  advice,"  cackled  Reu 
ben,  "  they  wouldn't  wras'le." 

"  They  wouldn't  wras'le  with  Mills,  nohow, 
would  they  Lilt?  "  chuckled  Ridgeby. 

Lilt  swallowed  enough  of  his  mouthful  to 
give  room  for  a  vindication. 

"  He's  a  pretty  hard  man,  but  I  think  I  cud 
down  him  after  I  got  ust  t'  him,  a  little,"  he 
mumbled. 

"  You  men  folks  '11  get  hurt  ef  you  don't 
stop  resking  yer  lim's  so,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Ridgeby. 

38 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  They  will  ef  they  don't  take  my  advice," 
Reuben  put  in. 

Newton  started  to  say  something  when  he 
was  interrupted  by  a  cheery  voice  from  the 
door  behind  him. 

"They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died.  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs 
an'  died." 

He  turned  his  head.  The  little  woman  who 
had  come  up  to  him  during  the  afternoon  was 
standing  in  the  doorway  nodding  her  head. 
Her  wrinkled  face  was  smiling  out  from  the 
depths  of  her  great  sun  bonnet. 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died,"  she  repeated.  "  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes' 
like  little  dogs  an'  died."  She  waved  her  hand 
and  turned  away.  Sibley  sprang  from  her  chair 
and  darted  to  the  door. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Bet,"  she  called,  "  Come  back 
and  eat  some  supper  with  us.  You  haven't 
visited  us  in  a  long  time." 

"They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died,"  laughed  back  the  old  lady  from  the  dis- 
39 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

tance.  "  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes'  like  little 
dogs  an'  died."  She  waved  her  hand  again 
and  disappeared  down  the  lane. 

The  girl  returned  to  her  seat  with  a  look  of 
disappointment  on  her  pretty  face.  Newton 
gave  her  a  glance  of  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  that  is  Crazy  Bet,"  Sibley  answered. 
"  A  shock  unsettled  her  mind  when  she  was  a 
young  woman.  Her  husband  was  suddenly 
killed  by  a  fall  from  a  hay  loft  and  within  the 
next  week  her  three  children  died  of  diphtheria. 
Father  and  mother  remember  it.  It  was  long 
before  I  was  born.  Ever  since  that  time  the 
poor  woman  has  wandered  about  telling  every 
one  she  meets  that  '  they  laid  down  like  little 
dogs  and  died/  She  generally  comes  here  quite 
often  but  I  think  she  has  taken  it  into  her  head 
to  go  to  the  poor  farm  again." 

"  Ef  they'd  take  my  advice,"  Reuben  put  in, 
"  They'd  send  her  to  th'  'sylum." 

"  You  must  be  a  stranger  in  this  section  ef 
yeh  don't  know  Crazy  Bet,"  said  his  hostess. 

"  I  am." 

40 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Where  do  yeh  live  when  yer  t'  home,"  she 
continued  with  an  idea  of  being  sociable. 

"  Nowhere." 

She  looked  startled. 

"  My,  haint  yeh  got  no  home." 

"  Under  my  hat." 

"  Is  that  all  yeh've  got  tinder  yer  hat,"  Lilt 
asked,  staring  hard  at  his  plate. 

"  All  except  a  few  ideas  about  wrestling." 

Ridgeby  chuckled  and  bobbed  his  head.  Lilt 
grinned  sheepishly.  Mrs.  Ridgeby  returned  to 
the  attack. 

"  Yeh  haint  a  tramp,  be  yeh." 

"  Well  a  sort  of  a  tramp,  I  suppose,"  New 
ton  returned. 

"  But  haint  yeh  got  no  kin,"  she  persisted. 

Sibley  was  looking  at  him.  He  hesitated  a 
moment  then  answered  slowly. 

"  We  are  all  kin." 

Sibley  carried  the  conversation  into  other 
channels.  Newton  gave  her  a  grateful  glance. 

The  supper  was  soon  finished.  Lilt  tilted 
back  in  his  chair  and  began  picking  his  teeth 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

with  his  fork.  Ridgeby  followed  his  example. 
Sibley  and  her  mother  cleared  away  the  dishes. 
A  great  cat  came  out  from  under  the  stove  and 
rubbed  against  Newton's  leg  and  then  sprang 
purring  into  his  lap.  A  fly  lighted  on  Reuben's 
bald  pate.  He  swung  his  hand  testily  about  his 
ears. 

"  Gum  a  fly !    Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice — " 

"  Who,  th'  fly?  "  grinned  Lilt. 

The  old  man  glared  at  him  and  snorted. 
Then  he  pulled  a  great  red  handkerchief  from 
his  pocket  and  spread  it  over  his  head.  Leaning 
back  against  the  wall  he  went  to  sleep. 

Sibley  went  out  of  the  kitchen  and  returned 
in  a  moment  with  three  milk  pails.  She  set 
them  down  on  the  floor  and  taking  a  pink  sun 
bonnet  from  a  peg  on  the  wall  put  it  on. 

"  I'm  ready,"  she  said. 

Ridgeby  and  Lilt  got  up  and  taking  each 
a  pail  went  out  of  the  door.  The  girl  caught  up 
the  remaining  pail  and  followed  them. 

"Do  you   help   the   men   milk?"    Newton 
asked  in  surprise  as  he  sprang  after  her. 
42 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Why,  certainly,"  she  answered  simply. 

"  Let  me  take  your  turn  to-night." 

"  It  is  not  necessary." 

"  Then  get  me  another  pail." 

"  You  don't  want  to  milk." 

"  But  I  do." 

She  threw  that  quick  glance  at  him  again. 

"  Can  you  milk  ?  "  she  asked,  stopping. 

"Why,  certainly." 

She  returned  to  the  house  and  got  another 
pail. 

They  walked  side  by  side  to  the  barn. 
Neither  spoke.  The  night  was  inky  dark  save 
the  little  light  the  stars  gave.  The  moon  had 
not  yet  risen.  The  wind  was  blowing  lightly. 
Its  low  complainings  could  be  heard  in  the 
wheat  field  to  the  left  of  them.  Its  louder 
croonings  sounded  through  the  willow  trees. 
An  owl  was  hooting  somewhere  about  them. 
They  could  hear  the  lowing  of  the  cows  in  the 
barn. 

Newton  stole  a  glance  at  his  companion.  Her 
carriage  was  erect,  the  pose  of  her  head  com- 
43 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

manding,  her  step  was  strong  but  graceful. 
The  girl  puzzled  him.  She  seemed  to  fit  into 
her  surroundings  yet  had  no  part  with  them. 

They  came  to  the  barn.  A  pale  light  shone 
from  out  the  doorway.  Ridgeby  had  just 
lighted  a  lantern  and  hung  it  upon  a  nail.  Lilt 
was  closing  the  stanchions. 

"  Hullo ! "  he  called,  when  he  caught  sight 
of  Newton.  "  Have  yeh  come  out  t'  learn  t' 
milk?" 

"  No." 

"  Yeh  haint.    What  for,  then  ?  " 

"  To  teach  you." 

"  How  old  was  yeh  when  yeh  learned  to 
milk?" 

"  About  three  hours." 

It  was  Ridgeby's  turn  to  laugh.  The  girl 
was  stroking  the  flank  of  a  great  roan  cow, 
which  lowed  a  welcome.  Newton  caught  up  a 
stool  and  began  milking  the  cow  nearest  him. 
The  others  followed. 

Tz-i-i-e-e-e-e-eng,   tz-i-i-i-e-e-e-e-e-eng  sang 
the  white  streams  as  they  struck  the  tin,  chang- 
44 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ing  to  a  quicker  zung, — sung  as  the  pails  slowly 
filled.  The  cows  chewed  their  cuds  in  silent 
contentment. 

Newton  might  have  milked  faster  but  he 
could  not  forbear  glancing  now  and  then 
around  the  flank  of  his  cow  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  Sibley.  He  could  not  see  her  face,  only  her 
hands.  They  were  so  soft  and  white  it  did  not 
seem  to  him  that  they  could  be  used  to  such 
rough  labour.  He  wished  that  he  had  not 
offered  to  milk,  but  had  only  looked  on.  Then 
he  could  have  watched  the  girl's  face. 

"  I'll  race  yeh,"  shouted  Lilt. 

"  Here  goes,"  Newton  answered. 

"  Milk  dry,  now,"  cautioned  Ridgeby. 

The  milk  sang  into  the  pails.  There  were 
sixteen  cows.  Newton  won  the  race  by  one. 
Sibley  was  even  with  Lilt.  She  laughed  lightly 
when  she  found  they  had  each  been  beaten. 

A  short  time  after  returning  to  the  house 

Newton  was  shown  to  the  room  he  was  to 

occupy  for  the  night.     The  ceiling  was  low 

and  sloping  on  each  side.     There  was  a  great 

45 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

four-post  bed  in  the  room  with  a  mountainous 
feather  tick.  The  bed  was  covered  by  a  blue 
woven  counterpane.  A  Bible  and  a  hymn 
book  rested  on  the  low  old-fashioned  dresser, 
and  the  Lord's  prayer,  worked  in  red  worsted, 
hung  framed  upon  the  wall. 

He  was  tired  and  sank  into  a  half  doze  as 
soon  as  he  touched  the  pillow.  Then  he  became 
dimly  conscious  of  a  howling  and  scratching 
beneath  him,  mingled  with  low  oofs  and 
smothered  squeals.  He  heard  a  low  shuffling 
in  the  kitchen  and  the  door  opening.  There 
came  a  stampede  beneath  him.  A  moment 
later  he  heard  the  shuffling  in  the  kitchen  again 
and  Reuben's  voice  drawling: 

"  Gum  a  hawg  anyway.  Ef  they  ud  take 
my  advice — " 

Then  he  sank  deeper  into  the  feathers  and  to 
sleep. 


Chapter  IV 


A  TRUANT  ray  of  sunshine  playing  at 
hide  and  seek  with  a  shadow  fell 
athwart  Newton's  face  the  next  morn 
ing  and  awoke  him.  Out  in  the  yard  the  cocks 
were  welcoming  the  morning  with  clamorous 
matins.  Their  bandied  paeans  mingled  demo 
cratically  with  the  squealings  of  hungry  pigs 
and  the  morning  songs  of  birds.  The  rattle  of 
dishes  in  the  kitchen  warned  Newton  to  be 
astir.  He  dressed  hastily.  The  family  was 
sitting  down  to  breakfast  when  he  joined  it. 
Lilt  had  just  surmounted  a  pile  of  cakes  with 
a  great  lump  of  butter.  He  looked  up  and 
greeted  Newton  with  a  hearty,  "  Mornin'." 
Mrs.  Ridgeby  bustled  forward  with  an  anxious 
inquiry  as  to  his  night's  rest.  Ridgeby  seemed 
to  be  out  of  sorts.  There  was  a  frown  on  his 
face  and  a  pucker  in  his  forehead.  He  growled 
a  greeting  at  Newton.  Reuben  was  rolling  a 
potato  from  hand  to  hand  and  blowing  on 
his  ringers  alternately. 

47 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Ef  yeh'd  a  tuk  my  advice,"  he  was  cackling, 
"  Gummed  but  these  'taters  are  hot.  Ef  yeh'd 
a  tuk  my  advice,  yeh  wouldn't  a  et  that  las' 
piece  o'  pie  las'  night." 

"  Naw,  he'd  a  left  it  for  you,"  Lilt  put  in. 

Reuben  turned  on  him  testily.  He  dropped 
the  potato  and  gave  his  fingers  a  parting 
blow. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  he  shrilled. 
"  Yeh'd  talk  less  an'  say  more." 

Sibley  came  in  and  took  her  place.  She 
gave  Newton  a  careless  "  good  morning."  He 
looked  at  her  narrowly.  She  seemed  to  him  to 
be  even  prettier  in  the  early  morning  than  she 
was  the  night  before.  She  was  as  fresh  as  the 
morning  itself.  A  sunbeam  broke  through  the 
window,  mingled  with  her  hair,  and  was  lost. 
Newton  tried  to  draw  her  into  a  conversation 
but  succeeded  indifferently.  He  found  her, 
however,  to  be  of  nimble  wit  and  in  her  words 
showed  a  familiarity  with  the  world  and  its 
doings  that  surprised  him.  Ridgeby  was 
grumbling  to  himself. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  never  seen  help  s'  scarce  in  all  my  born 
days,"  he  mumbled  tartly.  "  There  hain't  been 
hide  ner  hair  of  a  han'  through  this  section 
this  summer,  an'  here  'tis  way  into  harvestin' 
an'  not  a  blade's  cut.  Hay's  'bout  ruined,  too. 
I  swear  ef  things  hain't  jes'  set  crostwise 
with  me  this  year.  I  never  see  such  'tarnal 
luck." 

"Ef  yeh'd  a  tuk  my  advice ,"  put  in 

Reuben. 

"  Here's  me  laid  up  with  th'  Roomatis," 
continued  Ridgeby,  hastily,  "  An  Em'ly's  'bout 
beat  out  with  th'  ager,  an'  Sibley  ain't  feelin' 
very  well,  an  th'  colt's  got  th'  influenzy,  th' 
hogs  th'  choleree  an'  th'  chickens  th'  pips.  Th' 
ole  mare's  clean  gin  out,  hain't  been  no  rain 
fer  a  month  an'  taxes  is  due." 

"  Ef  yeh'd  a  tuk  my  advice " 

"  Everything's  goin'  t'  rack  an'  ruin,"  thun 
dered  Ridgeby,  his  voice  rising  with  his  anger. 
"  We're  gittin'  porer  every  day  an'  th'  rich  is 
gettin'  richer.  We're  bein'  groun'  down  by 
domineerin'  capitalists  an'  th'  railroads  're 
49 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

eatin'  us  up.  Th'  gov'ment's  in  th'  hands  o' 
demagogues  an'  tricksters.  We're  bein'  hur 
ried  under  a  mountain  o'  taxes  t'  keep  a  lot  o' 
lazy  paupers  doin'  nahthin."  Ridgeby  stopped 
to  catch  his  breath.  Reuben  thought  he  saw 
an  opportunity. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  a  tuk  my  advice " 

Ridgeby  went  on. 

"  Everything's  taxed.  Them  buttons  'er 
taxed  ten  per  cent.  Them  overall's  taxed ;  so's 
them  knives  and  forks,  an  th'  table  cloth  too. 
Th'  country's  goin'  t'  th'  everlastin'  bow-wow- 
o-o-o-o-o-o- 

Ridgeby  choked  on  the  wow.  Reuben  seized 
the  opportunity. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  a  tuk  my  advice,"  he  piped, 
"Yeh'd  a  stuck  t'  th'  good  ole  Republican 
party,  like  I  dun." 

His  remarks  were  lost.  Ridgeby  was  getting 
black  in  the  face.  His  wife  sprang  up  and  be 
gan  pounding  on  his  back  with  what  strength 
there  was  in  her  thin,  spare  frame.  Sibley 
offered  water.  Between  this  assistance  and 
50 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ferocious  swallowings  on  the  part  of  Ridgeby 
the  truant  mouthful  was  safely  landed  where  it 
belonged. 

"  What's  got  int'  yeh,  anyway,"  his  wife 
exclaimed  with  considerable  spirit.  "  I  haint 
seen  yeh  make  sech  a  fool  o'  yerself  in  a  long 
time.  This's  is  what  comes  o'  bein'  in  politicks 
an'  runnin'  fer  office." 

"  Wow !  "  sighed  Ridgeby,  as  he  straight 
ened  up.  "  O-o-o-o-o-wow !  Is  it  gone?  " 

"  It's  t'  be  hoped  yer  temper  has,"  said  his 
wife,  smiling  again. 

A  sheepish  grin  spread  over  the  old  man's 
face.  Newton  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  Are  you  in  need  of  a  hand?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  be,"  Ridgeby  answered,  meekly. 

"Will  I  do?" 

"You?" 

"  Yes." 

Again  Newton  caught  the  girl  throwing  that 
glance  of  inquiry  at  him. 

"  You  don't  look  like  a  farm  hand,"  said 
Ridgeby,  doubtfully. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Lilt  didn't  think  that  I  looked  like  a  wres 
tler,  either." 

Ridgeby  chuckled. 

"  Ther  haint  much  money  in  it,"  he  said. 
"  Twenty  dollars  a'  month  an'  foun'." 

"  Give  me  the  found.  I  don't  care  for  the 
twenty  dollars,"  Newton  replied. 

Again  came  that  quick  glance  from  Sibley. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  Reuben  cackled. 

"  I'll  try  yeh,"  answered  Ridgeby.  "  Ther 
haint  much  t'  do  this  mornin'.  Lilt's  usin'  the 
team  down  in  th'  south  lot  cult'vatin',  but  this 
afternoon  yeh  can  take  'em  an'  begin  cuttin' 
hay  in  th'  secon'  medder." 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  finished  Reuben, 
"  Yeh'd  make  him  pay  fer  his  board." 

Breakfast  was  hurried  through  as  rapidly 
as  possible.  Ridgeby  and  Lilt  were  on  their 
way  to  the  fields  very  soon.  Newton  stayed 
at  the  house  and  amused  himself  watching 
the  girl.  She  worked  rapidly,  going  from 
one  task  to  another  with  the  ease  of  habit. 
Now  wiping  the  dishes,  giving  them  a  pol- 
52 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ish  to  the  tune  of  "  Bon  Ami,"  now  out  in 
the  yard  surrounded  by  a  flock  of  cack 
ling,  clucking  hens,  that  eagerly  pecked  the 
corn  she  threw  them;  now  carrying  a  pail  of 
skimmed  milk  to  the  calves.  She  swung  the 
heavy  pail  with  an  ease  which  proved  that 
strength  was  added  to  her  beauty.  The  bend 
of  her  lithe  body  and  the  pose  of  her  arm  as 
she  held  it  out  for  a  balance  were  of  classic 
grace.  The  morning's  drudgery  was  soon  fin 
ished. 

Newton  was  drawing  a  bucket  of  water  from 
the  well  when  Sibley  came  out  from  the  house 
and  started  with  a  sprightly  step  through  the 
orchard. 

"  Where  away,  now,"  he  called  after  her. 

She  paid  no  attention  to  him.  He  shrugged 
his  shoulders  and  sprang  after  her.  She 
stopped  and  turned  on  him.  A  princess,  whose 
pale  of  royalty  had  been  trespassed  upon,  could 
not  have  been  more  repellent.  Mills'  self- 
assurance  deserted  him.  He  involuntarily 
doffed  his  hat.  He  spoke  humbly. 
53 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"I  beg  your  pardon  if  I  have  displeased 
you,"  he  said  slowly.  "  I  know  you  better 
now." 

The  slight  frown  that  had  come  over  Sib- 
ley's  face  passed  away. 

"  Am  I  forgiven?  "  he  asked. 

Newton  asked  it  so  half  timidly,  half  mis 
chievously,  that  Sibley  smiled  in  spite  of  her 
self. 

'  Your  forwardness  is  at  least  good-na 
tured,"  she  answered.  "  I  will  pass  it." 

"  Then  may  I  go  with  you  ?  I  want  a  walk, 
the  morning  is  beautiful." 

Sibley  turned  away. 

"I  am  going  to  the  Corners.  There  are 
several  other  directions  in  which  you  can 
walk." 

"  But  I  want  to  go  this  way." 

"  I  cannot  stop  you,  but  you  will  find  it  a 
hard  walk." 

"  Is  it  a  long  one?  "  he  asked. 

"  A  very  long  one,  and  a  sharp  tongue  for 
a  welcome." 

54 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  And  a  sharper  one  for  company.  Well, 
I'm  going." 

They  came  to  the  orchard  fence.  Newton 
was  just  about  to  offer  his  assistance  when  Sib- 
ley  put  her  hand  on  the  top  rail  and  lightly 
vaulted  it.  Newton  followed  her.  He  had 
seen  torn-boys  leap  fences,  but  this  girl  did  not 
do  it  like  a  tom-boy.  She  did  it  like — Sibley. 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  usually  climb  fences  ?  " 
Newton  asked  quizzically. 

"  Yes,  unless  there  is  some  one  about  whom 
I  care  for." 

She  said  it  carelessly.  Newton  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"  I  am  glad  then  that  I  am  one  of  the 
favoured  mortals  whom  you  do  not  care  for.  I 
would  not  have  missed  that  sight  for  anything. 
Will  you  leap  the  next  fence,  too?  " 

They  walked  some  distance  without  speak 
ing.  The  sun  was  flaming  half  way  up  the 
heavens.  Swallows  were  dipping  here  and 
there.  A  flock  of  sparrows  flew  up,  now  and 
then,  around  them.  They  were  walking 
55 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

through  a  pasture.  The  grass  was  closely 
cropped.  Gopher  holes  honeycombed  the 
ground.  A  snake  wiggled  out  from  under  the 
girl's  foot  and  disappeared  in  a  hole.  She 
carelessly  watched  its  course.  Newton  cast 
about  him  for  an  excuse  with  which  to  start  a 
conversation. 

"  What  an  odd  old  chap  Reuben  is,"  he  said. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  she  answered  vacantly. 

"  Who  is  he?  "  he  asked,  bluntly. 

"Who  is  who?" 

"  Why,  Reuben." 

"Oh,   were  you  talking  about  him?     Yes, 
he  is." 

"He  is  what?" 

"Didn't  you  say  that  he  was  odd?     I  was 
agreeing  with  you." 

"  Oh." 

Another  silence. 

"Well,   who   is   Reuben,"   he  asked  again. 
"A  relative?" 

"  No,  I  don't  know  who  he  is,"  Sibley  an 
swered  carelessly. 

56 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  You  don't  know  who  he  is  ?  "  Newton  re 
plied,  puzzled.  "  That's  queer." 

"Is  it?" 

Sibley's  mind  seemed  to  be  wandering  away 
somewhere.  Then  she  came  a  little  more  to 
herself. 

"  Reuben  came  to  the  door  one  day  about  six 
years  ago  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  stay  over 
night.  Up  to  this  time  he  has  neglected  to  go 
away." 

Just  then  they  came  to  another  fence.  Sib- 
ley  did  not  vault  it,  but  walked  along  its  bush- 
lined  sides  until  she  came  to  a  pair  of  bars.  She 
let  them  down  and  passed  through. 

"  I  seem  to  be  growing  in  your  estimation," 
Newton  said,  as  he  replaced  the  bars. 

Sibley  laughed,  but  did  not  reply.  They 
soon  came  within  sight  of  the  little  red  store. 
He  wondered  if  the  girl  would  say  anything 
about  his  encounter  with  Hi  Simms  now  that 
they  were  on  the  scene  of  it.  Instead,  she 
began  humming  "  Bon  Ami." 

They  passed  around  the  corner  of  the  store 
57 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

and  went  in  by  the  little  door  in  front.  Miss 
Latey  was  sitting  in  her  accustomed  place  by 
the  sugar  barrel.  She  gave  Newton  a  sharp 
glance  as  they  entered. 

"  Good  morning,  Miss  Latey/'  Sibley  said 
pleasantly. 

Miss  Latey  snapped  her  teeth  tightly  to 
gether  and  glared  at  her  customers. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  be  it?     What  d'yeh  want?  " 

"  A  pound  of  citron,  if  you  please,"  Sibley 
answered. 

"  Huh !  "  sniffed  the  old  lady,  as  she  got  up. 
"It's  a  wonder  'at  Hiram  Ridgeby's  able  t' 
buy  fancy  stuff  with  s'  many  paupers  in  th' 
house.  No  wonder  he  can't  pay  intrust." 

Newton  was  looking  at  Sibley.  He  saw  the 
red  of  her  cheeks  deepen  and  spread  over  her 
face  until  it  burned  like  fire.  He  saw  her  white 
teeth  sink  into  her  lips  as  though  they  would 
bite  through  them. 

"  Has  Ridgeby  picked  up  any  more  paupers 
lately?  "  continued  the  old  lady,  as  she  weighed 
out  the  citron. 

58 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  He  picked  me  up  last  night,"  Newton 
broke  in  sharply.  "  I  am  to  work  for  my 
board  and  clothes." 

Miss  Latey  looked  at  him  over  her 
glasses. 

"  My  land,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Ef  it  aint  that 
tramp  'at  'uz  fightin'  with  Hi  Simms  las' 
night.  Well,  ef  I  'uz  Hiram  Ridgeby  I'd  send 
you  postin'  'fore  yeh  had  time  t'  steal  any 
thing." 

Newton  burst  into  a  boisterous  laugh. 
Under  cover  of  it  Sibley  caught  up  her  pur 
chase  and  darted  out  the  door.  Newton  fol 
lowed  her  more  slowly  and  saw  her  speeding 
across  the  fields  in  a  walk  that  was  almost  a 
run.  He  overtook  her.  He  was  still  laugh 
ing.  When  he  came  along  side  her  Sibley 
turned  her  head. 

"  What  an  old  vixen,"  laughed  Newton. 
"  She  could  break  up  that  temper  of  her's  into 
little  pieces  and  sell  them  for  needles.  Who  is 
she,  Miss  Ridgeby?" 

Newton  caught  sight  of  Sibley's  face.    Tears 
59 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

were  stealing  out  of  her  eyes  and  staining  her 
cheeks.  He  was  sobered  at  once. 

"  Why,  Miss  Ridgeby ,"  he  began. 

"  Don't  call  me  that,"  she  cried.  "  I'm  not 
Miss  Ridgeby.  I'm  only  what  Miss  Latey 
called  me,  a  pauper,  one  of  Hiram  Ridgeby's 
stray  cattle.  I  ought  to  be  in  the  poor  house 
or  farmed  out  for  my  board." 

The  tears  came  faster,  and  she  spoke  fever 
ishly.  Newton  looked  at  her  in  amazement. 
The  girl  sped  on.  She  seemed  to  want  to  es 
cape  him.  He  looked  into  her  face  again.  All 
the  pride  that  had  been  in  her  carriage  had 
melted.  She  seemed  to  him  now  as  a  child. 
He  forgot  for  the  moment  that  she  was  a 
woman.  He  reached  out  and  caught  her  hand. 
She  gave  a  start  and  turned  a  frightened  face 
towards  him,  but  did  not  draw  her  hand  away. 
There  was  something  in  the  expression  on  his 
face  that  reassured  her.  She  was  in  a  mood  in 
which  a  woman  craves  sympathy.  The  highly- 
keyed  tension  of  her  nerves  made  her  fairly 
clairvoyant.  They  told  her  that  she  had  found 
60 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

a  friend.    They  were  standing  beneath  a  great 
tree.    He  pulled  her  down  on  one  of  the  roots. 

"  Tell  me  about  it,"  he  commanded. 

"  There  isn't  very  much  to  tell,"  she  replied, 
borne  down  by  his  tone.  "  I  was  left,  when  a 
baby,  on  Hiram  Ridgeby's  doorstep.  The 
only  father  and  mother  I  ever  knew  took  me  in 
and  kept  me.  The  neighbours  wanted  me 
taken  to  the  poor  house,  but  they  would  not 
have  it  that  way  and  I  was  brought  up  as 
if  I  were  a  daughter.  How  good  they 
have  been  to  me.  Father  even  mortgaged  the 
farm  that  I  might  have  an  education.  Why,  I 
was  at  Vassar  two  years.  It  was  intended  that 
I  should  finish  the  course,  but  father  couldn't 
raise  the  money  without  increasing  the  mort 
gage  and  I  wouldn't  let  him  do  that.  They 
have  done  everything  in  the  world  for  me,  but 
I  have  no  right  to  any  of  it.  I  suppose  it  is  that 
I  may  not  forget  that  fact  and  become  ungrate 
ful  that  I  have  to  stand  such  slurs  as  these, 
but,  oh,  how  they  hurt  me." 

Newton  smiled  at  her. 
61 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Why  do  you  mind  the  words  of  a  sour- 
tongued  old  woman  whose  temper  has  fer 
mented  and  must  blow  up  once  in  so  often. 
The  idea  of  calling1  you  a  pauper  because  Hiram 
Ridgeby  was  lucky  enough  to  have  you  left  on 
his  doorstep.  My  home  had  a  doorstep.  I 
wish  you  had  been  left  on  that.  Perhaps, 
then " 

Newton's  voice  sank.  Then  he  checked  him 
self.  He  looked  away  off  towards  the  south 
and  for  a  moment  watched  a  man  and  a  team 
crawling  along  the  summit  of  the  ridge.  Even 
that  far  away  he  could  see  that  it  was  Ridgeby. 

"  Perhaps  then — Ridgeby  and  his  wife 
would  not  be  the  happy  couple  they  are  now," 
he  finished. 

"  Look ! "  he  said,  pointing  towards  the 
ridge.  "  There's  the  old  man  working  away, 
harder  perhaps  than  he  deserves,  but  you  know 
how  cheerfully  he  does  it.  But  don't  you  know 
that  you  have  lightened  his  load  rather  than 
increased  it.  Those  furrows  would  seem  twice 
as  long  were  it  not  for  the  face  he  sees  at  the 
62 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

end  of  each  one  of  them.  The  mud  would 
cling  twice  as  heavily  about  his  great  boots 
were  it  not  for  the  lightness  in  his  heart  that 
you  have  put  there.  When  we  passed  the  house 
yesterday  we  heard  you  singing.  Could  you 
have  heard  the  swell  of  loving  pride  that  came 
into  his  voice  when  he  said,  '  That's  Sibley 
Ann/  you  would  never  let  such  thoughts 
bother  you  again." 

She  was  looking  toward  the  ground.  Her 
hand  supported  her  chin.  She  had  stopped  cry 
ing.  Newton  lightened  his  tone. 

"  How  can  you  be,  a  pauper  with  riches  of 
beauty,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Beauty  is  only  skin  deep  at  the  best,"  she 
returned. 

"  Not  if  it  goes  way  through  to  the  heart." 

She  looked  up  at  him. 

"  I  know  I'm  foolish,  but " 

"  It's  the  province  of  a  girl  to  be  foolish/' 
Newton  finished. 

A  smile  crept  over  her  face. 

"  But  I  have  been  to  Vassar.     Is  that  not 

63 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

supposed  to  lift  one  above  the  right  to  be 
foolish?  But  come,  we  must  get  back  to  the 
house." 

Newton  would  have  liked  to  stay  longer,  but 
he  followed  her.  They  came  to  the  orchard 
fence. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  What  are  you  going  to 
do  about  the  fence  this  time?  " 

She  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes  a  mo 
ment.  A  quizzical  smile  came  over  her  face, 
then  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  think  that  I  will  be  a  Vassar  girl  again 
for  a  moment.  You  may  help  me  over." 


Chapter    V 


AFTER  dinner  Newton  hitched  the  team 
to  the  mower  and  started  for  the  hay 
field.  He  drove  through  a  winding 
lane  in  which  the  calves  were  sporting,  skirting 
an  orchard  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  a 
wheat  field,  whose  golden  expanse,  uniting  with 
others,  stretched  out  until,  sinking  down  a 
swale,  it  became  lost  to  sight.  The  sun,  falling 
on  the  bending  heads,  was  reflected  back  in  a 
golden  sparkle.  He  let  down  a  pair  of  bars, 
drove  through  a  pasture  and  into  the  field  of 
waving  timothy. 

He  stopped  his  horses  a  moment  and  looked 
around  him.  The  tufted  grass  was  bowing 
salutes  to  the  sun  all  about  him.  It  swayed 
and  bent  and  tossed  and  became  erect  again  as 
the  wind  whispered  over  it,  sending  up  a  breath 
of  perfume  that  Newton  drank  in  with  a  sigh. 
Grasshoppers  everywhere  leaped  from  stalk  to 
stalk  and  filled  the  air  with  their  grating  song. 
One  of  them  lighted  on  his  hand.  He  aroused 

65 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

himself  from  the  half  reverie  into  which  he 
had  fallen  and  flicked  it  off.  He  drew  up  the 
lines,  let  down  the  bar  and  called  to  his  horses. 
They  strained  against  the  collars,  the  knives 
creaked  and  crashed  and  the  serried  ranks  of 
hay  began  to  prostrate  themselves  as  Oriental 
slaves  at  the  approach  of  a  master.  The  rattle 
of  the  knives  as  he  drove  round  and  round  the 
field  became  monotonous  after  awhile.  It 
drowned  out  all  other  sounds  and  roared  in  his 
ears  until  he  scarcely  heard  it.  Then  he  fell 
to  musing  of  Sibley. 

The  girl  was  an  enigma  to  him.  Here  was 
a  woman  to  whom  had  been  given  advantages 
far  beyond  those  usual  to  her  lot,  a  girl  cul 
tured,  refined,  with  a  mind  broadened  by  con 
tact  with  the  world,  educated  at  a  college  noted 
for  its  culture,  accomplished,  beautiful.  All 
this  she  was,  yet  here  he  found  her  on  an  Iowa 
farm,  milking  the  cows,  feeding  the  calves,  en 
gaged  in  all  the  rough  household  duties,  tak 
ing  her  full  share  in  the  rude  battle  for  exist 
ence,  and  doing  it  all  as  though  she  dreamed  of 
66 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

nothing  better.  There  was  nothing  in  her 
bearing  to  reveal  that  she  considered  herself 
better  than  her  surroundings,  no  attempt  to 
hold  herself  above  it.  If  she  longed  for  some 
thing  better,  if  her  mind  revolted  at  the  crude 
monotony  around  her,  if  she  was  filled  with 
ambitions  beyond  her  every  day  life  it  was  no 
where  manifested.  Still  her  superiority  was 
everywhere  apparent.  Her  face  and  form 
showed  a  gentle  parentage  shining  through 
the  mystery  of  her  birth.  There  was  an  uncon 
scious  grace  in  her  bearing,  a  quiet  queenliness 
in  her  address,  which  in  spite  of  herself  marked 
her  as  above  her  condition. 

Sibley  was  an  example  of  that  ever  increas 
ing  type,  the  educated  farmer's  daughter,  the 
girl  for  whom  the  old,  bent,  gnarled,  work- 
withered  mothers  and  fathers  have  toiled  year 
in  and  year  out,  knowing  not  the  meaning  of 
rest,  narrowing  as  the  seasons  pass,  growing 
farther  and  farther  away  from  that  great  world 
that  lies  somewhere  over  beyond  the  swells. 
When  the  children  grow  up  and  become  able 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

to  take  the  plow  from  the  hand  of  the  father 
and  the  multitudinous  cares  of  the  household 
from  the  shoulders  of  the  mother  the  parents 
shut  their  eyes  to  the  rest  that  is  offered  them. 
They  slave  harder  yet,  scrimp  closer  than  be 
fore,  add  to  the  mortgage  on  the  farm,  that  the 
children  may  have  an  education.  It  is  their 
ambition,  their  dream.  The  children  go  away 
to  school.  The  boys  stay  away.  The  glamour 
of  the  world  blinds  them.  Ambitious  dreams 
weave  delusions  in  their  minds,  and  they  turn 
their  backs  on  the  old  farm  and  go  out  into  the 
hurly-burly.  Not  so  the  girl.  She  goes  back 
to  mother  and  father,  she  takes  up  her  duties 
again  and  finds  her  simple  pleasures  among 
them.  So  it  was  with  Sibley. 

The  mower  rattled  on  and  the  horses  strained 
on.  The  steam  was  rising  in  clouds  from  their 
flanks.  The  sun  was  beating  down  with  a 
withering  heat.  The  horizon  seemed  dancing, 
so  tremulous  was  the  air.  Newton  felt  as  if  he 
were  burning  up  as  he  guided  the  horses  round 
and  round  the  field.  The  heat  seemed  to  find  its 
68 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

way  into  his  blood  and  set  it  boiling.  His  face 
and  hands  were  blistering-  and  his  shoulders  felt 
on  fire.  The  straw  hat  he  had  borrowed  from 
Lilt  offered  but  small  protection  and  he  feared 
he  would  faint. 

He  cast  longing  eyes  toward  the  west.  The 
sun  crawled  along.  He  had  not  been  in  the 
field  more  than  two  hours  and  already  it 
seemed  that  the  heat  must  overcome  him.  He 
happened  to  look  toward  the  house.  He  caught 
sight  of  a  girl  coming  down  through  the  pas 
ture  carrying  a  jug.  As  he  came  around  the 
circuit  again  she  leaped  the  fence  and  called  to 
him.  It  was  Sibley.  He  stopped  his  horses. 

"  I  have  brought  you  down  something  to 
drink,"  she  said,  as  she  came  up  to  him.  "  You 
would  better  stop  and  rest  for  a  few  moments. 
You  are  not  seasoned  to  the  heat  yet.  It  is 
terrible  out  here  in  the  fields.  I  don't  see  how 
the  men  stand  it.  Are  you  thirsty?  " 

"  I'm  as  dry  as  a  bone,"  Newton  said,  grate 
fully,  as  he  headed  his  horses  toward  a  tree 
that  grew  in  a  fence  corner.  He  drew  up  in  the 

69 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

shade  and  dismounted.  She  handed  him  the 
jug.  He  put  his  thumb  through  the  handle  and 
swinging  it  over  his  elbow  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Ah,  swizzle,"  he  said,  smacking  his  lips. 
Then  he  took  another  draught. 

Sibley  stood  with  her  arms  akimbo  smiling 
at  him.  Her  face,  in  the  depths  of  her  sunbon- 
net,  looked  bewitching.  Her  rounded  arms 
shone  through  her  thin  sleeves,  her  dress  open 
at  the  neck,  displayed  a  full,  white  throat. 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  remember  me," 
Newton  said,  looking  at  her.  "  I  was  nearly 
dying  from  thirst." 

"  I  always  take  the  men  something  cool  to 
drink  in  the  afternoon,"  she  replied. 

The  reply  disappointed  him. 

Sibley  went  up  to  the  horses  and  began  strok 
ing  their  heads.  Newton  threw  himself  down 
in  the  shade. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  you  all  the 
afternoon,  Miss  Ridgeby,"  he  said,  after  a 
minute. 

"  Father  would  probably  prefer  you  to  think 
70 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

about  your  work/'  she  returned,  without  look 
ing  at  him. 

Newton  was  taken  back,  but  he  did  not  yield 
the  field. 

"  You  are  an  enigma  to  me,"  he  continued. 
"  I  can't  make  you  out  at  all." 

"  What  is  the  matter.  I  can  probably  ex 
plain  it,"  she  replied. 

Newton  reached  for  a  blade  of  timothy  and 
twirled  it  in  his  fingers. 

"  Well,"  he  said  slowly,  "  You  have  told  me 
of  the  advantages  you  have  enjoyed,  of  your 
college  education  and  all,  and  yet  here  you  are 
on  this  farm  doing  the  rough  work  as  though 
you  cared  for  nothing  better.  You  are  like  the 
queen  in  the  guise  of  a  kitchen  maid." 

"  Is  an  education  supposed  to  unfit  one  for 
the  position  of  kitchen  maid?  "  she  asked  with 
out  turning  toward  him. 

"  No,  but  it  is  likely  to  raise  one  above  it, 
and  make  one  dissatisfied  with  it." 

"  You  are  college  bred,  are  you  not  ?  "  she 
asked,  turning  suddenly  toward  him. 

71 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Yes,"  he  admitted,  after  an  instant's  hesi 
tation. 

"  You  have  had  even  greater  advantages 
than  I?" 

"  Perhaps." 

"  Yet  here  you  are  working  on  a  farm  for 
twenty  dollars  a  month  and  found."  Sibley 
turned  to  the  horses  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Newton  added. 
"  Only  for  found.  There  may  be  some  good 
reason  for  that." 

"  Not  for  your  health,  anyway,"  Sibley 
laughed. 

"  There  are  a  good  many  kinds  of  health." 
Newton  replied  slowly. 

Sibley  left  the  horses  and  went  toward  him. 
Her  face  became  grave.  There  was  a  look  of 
intenseness  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"  If  there  is  reason  for  your  doing  as  you 
do,"  she  said,  "  Is  there  not  reason  for  me  ? 
What  right  have  I  to  do  anything  else  than 
what  I  do,  or  to  be  anything  else  than  what 
I  am.  I  have  no  right  even  to  these.  Every- 
72 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

thing  I  am  or  ever  will  be  is  owing  to  those 
whom  by  their  kindness  I  can  call  parents. 
Why  should  I  allow  their  kindnesses  to  raise  me 
above  them  ?  It  is  for  me  to  be  what  they  are, 
to  think  as  they  think,  to  work  as  they  work, 
anything  else  would  be  treason.  It  is  for  me  to 
remember  the  debt  I  owe  and  to  repay  it  as  far 
as  may  lie  in  my  power.  It  is  for  me  to  sacri 
fice  myself  to  any  extent  to  aid  them,  and  may 
I  die  before  I  see  the  day  that  I  shall  refuse 
to  do  it.  What  am  I  ?  Why  I  may  even  be — " 

She  checked  herself,  and  began  winking  her 
eyes  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  am." 

"  And  should  not  care,"  said  Newton. 
"  Look  into  the  glass.  Does  that  not  tell 
enough  ?  " 

"  Tell  that  to  a  silly  girl,"  said  Sibley. 

"  There  seems  to  be  none  here  to  whom  to 
tell  it,"  he  answered  meekly. 

Sibley  smiled  again. 

"  You  are  bound  to  compliment  me,  but  I  am 
proof  against  flattery." 
73 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Or  surfeited  with  it,  which ?" 

"A  girl  never  is  that,"  she  replied  with  a 
laugh.  "  She  may  be  unaffected  by  flattery, 
but  she  never  tires  of  it.  But  you  would  better 
go  to  work  again.  Here,"  she  cried  suddenly, 
as  from  an  inspiration,  "  you  stay  here  and  I 
will  go  around  two  or  three  times.  I  haven't 
driven  a  machine  for  two  years." 

She  sprang  on  the  iron  seat  and  started  the 
horses  on  the  circuit.  Newton  lay  back  in  the 
shade  and  watched  her  as  the  falling  timothy 
bent  before  her.  She  sat  erect  and  guided  the 
horses  with  a  rare  skill. 

A  road  skirted  one  side  of  the  field.  New 
ton's  eyes  turning  for  a  instant  from  Sibley's 
graceful  figure,  looked  up  it.  The  wind  rising 
a  little  was  puffing  up  the  dust  in  eddies.  Far 
up  the  road  he  saw  a  man  on  horseback  ap- 
approaching.  Sibley  was  almost  out  of  sight  at 
the  far  end  of  the  field  so  he  watched  him. 
The  horse  was  in  harness  and  the  tugs  were 
flapping.  The  man  was  mounted  sideways.  As 
he  came  nearer  Newton  recognised  him  as  the 
74 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

one  he  had  seen  the  day  before  with  Sibley.  He 
was  broad  shouldered  and  muscular.  His 
checked  shirt  was  open  at  the  throat  showing 
a  strong  chest.  His  feet  were  thrust  into  coarse 
boots.  He  wore  his  great  straw  hat  in  rather  a 
rakish  fashion.  The  sun-burned  features  it 
shadowed  were  heavy  and  coarse  though  well 
formed,  and  his  eyes  had  an  expression  of  un 
couth  hardness  in  them.  Sibley  was  coming 
around  by  the  tree.  The  man  checked  his 
horse. 

"Hello  Sib!"  he  called. 

Sibley  stopped  the  horses  and  looked  toward 
him. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Abner,"  she  answered 
quietly. 

"  I  'uz  jes'  goin'  over  t'  your  place.  Got  t' 
borrer  a  scythe  if  Ridgeby's  willin'.  Jim  jes 
broke  th'  one  he's  usin'.  It's  a  day's  grindin'  t' 
get  it  int*  shape  agen.  How's  th'  folks  ?  " 

"  They  are  well.  How  is  your  mother,  Ab 
ner?"  Sibley  returned  as  she  dismounted. 

"  The  ole  lady's  lively  'nuff.     Lize  guessed 
75 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

she'd  come  over  this  aft'noon,  but  Al's  wife 
dropped  in  fer  th'  day  an'  she  had  t'  give  it  up. 
She's  darned  sorry  too.  Got  a  new  han'  t'  help 
Lilt?" 

"Yes.  Mr.  Hawkins  this  is  Newton 
Mills." 

"  How'd  do  Newt.  Where'd  yeh  come 
from?" 

Newton  looked  into  Sibley's  face.  It  ex 
pressed  nothing.  He  pulled  another  blade  of 
grass  and  began  to  chew  it. 

"  I  say,  where  d'  yeh  come  from  ?  "  Abner 
repeated  roughly. 

Newton  turned  toward  him  coolly. 

"  From  Heaven,  originally,  I  understand." 

"The  Hell  yeh  did?" 

Again  Newton  looked  at  Sibley.  Her  face 
was  as  impassive  as  before. 

"  If  I  were  you,"  Newton  said  slowly,  "  I 
would  be  a  little  more  careful  what  language  I 
used  in  the  presence  of  a  lady." 

Abner  drew  his  horse  closer  to  the  fence  and 
rested  his  feet  on  the  top  rail. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Haw !  Haw !  Haw !  "  he  laughed,  "  Well,  I 
guess  Sib's  used  t'  me,  aint  yeh  Sib  ?  I'd  advize 
you,  though,  not  t'  be  givin'  lessons  in  ettiket 
t'  yer  betters." 

"  I  never  do/'  Newton  answered,  looking 
carelessly  away  across  the  field. 

"  Yeh  was  jes'  tryin'  Jt." 

"  Not  to  my  betters." 

Abner  pushed  his  hat  further  back  on  his 
head.  The  coarseness  of  his  face  became  more 
prominent.  He  was  speechless  for  a  moment. 
Newton  lay  still  watching  Sibley  and  carelessly 
chewing  a  blade  of  timothy. 

Hawkins  burst  out  at  last. 

"  Ef  Sib  want  here  I'd  teach  yeh  some  man 


ners." 


"  If  you  will  swear  before  a  woman  I  should 
think  you  would  fight  before  her,"  Newton  re 
plied,  throwing  away  the  blade  of  grass. 

"  Why  damn  you — ,"  began  Abner. 

Newton  sprang  from  the  ground  and  started 
for  the  fence.  Abner  threw  himself  from  his 
horse  and  advanced  to  meet  him.  Sibley  was 
77 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  only  calm  one.     She  stepped  in  front  of 
Newton  and  stopped  him. 

"  My  ears  do  not  need  a  protector,"  she  said 
quietly.  "  As  Abner  says  I  am  indeed  used  to 
him.  There  is  the  team,  you  had  better  go  back 
to  your  work." 

Newton  frowned  toward  Abner,  then  with 
out  a  word  turned  to  the  machine.  As  he 
mounted  it  Abner  broke  out  in  a  jeering 
laugh. 

"  Yeh  scart  easy." 

In  an  instant  the  rattle  of  the  knives  drowned 
the  rest  of  his  words.  Newton  did  not  venture 
to  look  back.  When  he  came  around  again  he 
saw  Abner  riding  toward  the  house.  Sibley 
was  walking  by  his  side.  On  the  next  round 
they  had  disappeared. 

After  supper  Newton  helped  Lilt  do  up  the 
chores.  When  he  went  into  the  house  after  the 
milk  pails  he  found  Abner  there.  Sibley  was 
just  leading  him  into  the  little  parlor.  He  was 
wearing  the  same  rough  clothes  he  had  worn 
in  the  afternoon.  As  Newton  saw  the  door 

78 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

close  behind  them  he  felt  a  strange  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction  in  his  heart.  A  sort  of  trembling 
came  over  his  limbs,  a  kind  of  vague  disap 
pointment.  He  pretended  to  himself  that  it  was 
not  there. 

He  and  Lilt  did  the  milking  alone  that  night. 

"Who's  this  Abner  Hawkins?"  Newton 
asked,  with  assumed  carelessness,  as  he  hung  a 
lantern  on  a  peg. 

"  He's  George  Hawkins's  son,"  Lilt  an 
swered,  as  he  began  closing  the  stanchions. 
"  Yeh  want  t'  look  out  for  him  a  little.  He's  a 
mean  cuss.  Th'  ole  man  has  means  an'  it  kind 
o'  sets  Abner  up.  It'll  all  go  t'  Ab.  He'll  be 
th'  bes'  fixed  man  in  th'  county  when  th'  ole 
man  dies.  They  say  'at  George  Hawkins  owns 
half  th'  county,  an's  got  a  mor'gage  on  t'other 
half.  He's  a  mean  scrimpy  critter  an'  Ab.  takes 
right  after  him.  He's  a  chip  off  th'  ole 
block." 

"  Is  he  a  friend  of  Miss  Ridgeby's?  "  New 
ton  asked,  as  he  put  a  stool  by  the  side  of  a 
great  roan  cow  and  sat  down. 
79 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Well,  I  shud  say  so.  They're  goin'  t'  be 
married  in  th'  spring." 

"Oh!" 

And  then  the  milk  began  to  sing  in  the 
pails. 


80 


Chapter  VI 


BEFORE  he  had  noticed  the  quick  pas 
sage  of  time  Newton  had  been  a  month 
at  the  farm.     His  status  in  the  family 
was  quickly  determined.  Ridgeby  declared  him 
to  be  a  jewel.    Lilt  admitted  that  he  could  farm 
as  well  as  he  could  wrestle.      Reuben  decided 
that  he  earned  his  board.     Mrs.  Ridgeby  had 
ceased  to  inquire  into  his  antecedents. 

While  his  cordial  reception  into  the  family 
was  most  pleasing  to  Newton  there  was  one 
member  of  it  whose  coldness  offset  in  his  mind 
the  warm  heartedness  of  all  the  others.  Upon 
his  advent  at  the  farm  Sibley  had  plainly  been 
suspicious  of  him.  Newton  was  sure  he  had 
conquered  her  suspicions.  On  two  occasions 
she  had  given  him  deep  insights  into  her  heart. 
These  revelations  seemed  to  him  to  warrant  a 
pledge  of  friendship.  For  a  time  he  thought 
she  was  his  friend.  For  two  weeks  she  threw 
aside  the  cool  reserve  in  which  she  had  at  first 
masked  herself  and  had  treated  him  with  a 
81 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

frank  kindness.  They  had  long  talks  together 
during  the  short  evenings.  Sometimes  it  was 
out  under  the  walnuts  where  the  tree  toads 
were  singing  for  rain,  or  walking  down  the 
road  in  the  moonlight.  Literature,  art,  re 
ligion  were  the  subjects  that  engrossed  them. 
Newton  found  the  girl's  mind  to  be  better  in 
formed  on  many  of  these  subjects  than  his  own. 
Her  tastes  were  exquisite,  her  ideas  well  de 
veloped,  her  opinions  sharply  defined.  Nor  did 
he  find  her  inclined  toward  the  pedantry  of  the 
blue  stocking.  She  was  always  ready  to  stop 
a  discussion  for  a  frolic  and  was  inclined  to 
season  an  argument  with  a  jest. 

During  those  first  days  Newton  found  the 
girl  to  be  exerting  an  influence  over  him  beyond 
what  he  had  thought  possible.  He  put  the 
thought  away  from  him,  he  even  laughed  at  it, 
but  he  caught  himself  listening  to  the  meadow 
larks  and  likening  their  song  to  Sibley's.  He 
came  upon  a  blue-bell  in  the  pasture  one  day 
and  he  stopped  to  notice  that  its  colour  was  that 
of  Sibley's  eyes.  He  called  himself  a  fool  and 
82 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

stepped  upon  the  blue-bell  but  before  he  could 
climb  the  fence  he  had  gone  back  and  raised  the 
bruised  flower  from  the  dust  and — kissed  it. 
Then  he  called  himself  a  fool  again.  He 
found  himself  looking  forward  all  through  the 
day  to  that  one  short  hour's  conversation  with 
Sibley  in  the  evening.  It  recompensed  him  for 
the  labour  and  sweat  of  the  day.  But  an  end 
came  to  this.  Abner  Hawkins'  visits  had 
ceased  for  awhile.  Newton  had  almost  for 
gotten  that  such  a  person  had  existence.  Ab 
ner  had  been  away  somewhere,  Lilt  said. 
"  Puttin'  th'  screws  on  a  mortgage  summers, 
most  likely!"  But  he  came  back  again.  New 
ton  found  that  he  had  no  place  with  Sibley  any 
longer.  Their  evening  talks  ended.  She  no 
longer  came  out  to  the  fields  in  the  afternoons 
with  a  cooling  draught.  Old  Reuben  instead, 
limped  out  with  it.  It  often  lay  untasted  in  the 
shade.  Sibley's  manner  toward  Newton 
changed  as  well.  The  old  coldness  came  into 
her  manner  again.  Then  Newton  found  him 
self  to  be  miserable.  The  farm  was  no  longer 

83 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

pleasant.  The  sun  seemed  hotter  and  there 
were  no  pleasant  anticipations  to  make  him  for 
get  it.  The  clatter  of  the  mower  became  more 
deafening  and  there  was  no  song  in  his  ears  to 
drown  it.  He  would  not  then  admit  that  he  was 
coming  to  love  Sibley,  but  he  knew  he  was 
beginning  to  hate  Abner  Hawkins.  Then  he 
thought  that  he  hated  Sibley  because  she  was 
going  to  marry  him.  The  thought  of  this 
marriage  had  become  a  bitter  one.  Each  day 
he  found  himself  able  to  consider  it  less  calmly. 
He  made  a  wry  face  over  it  every  time  he 
thought  of  it. 

He  finally  became  so  impatient  with  himself 
that  he  decided  to  leave  the  farm.  Why?  Be 
cause  he  was  in  love  with  Sibley  Ridgeby  and 
she  was  going  to  marry  another  man.  Pshaw ! 
but  he  was  not  in  love  with  Sibley  Ridgeby  and 
so  far  as  he  was  concerned  she  could  marry 
anyone  she  pleased.  Then  why  should  he  leave 
the  farm  ?  He  decided  that  this  was  reasoning 
somewhat  in  a  circle  and  told  himself  again 
that  he  was  a  fool. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Why  was  Sibley  Ridgeby  going  to  marry 
Abner  Hawkins?  The  rattle  of  the  mower 
shrieked  the  question  in  his  ears  all  day  long. 
The  robins  chirped  it.  The  gophers  whistled  it. 
Why  was  Sibley  Ridgeby  going  to  marry  Ab 
ner  Hawkins  ?  Because  she  loved  him,  seemed 
the  rational  answer.  But  was  it  true  in  this 
case?  Did  Sibley  Ridgeby  love  Abner  Haw 
kins?  Newton's  mind  rebelled  at  the  thought. 
Could  she,  a  girl,  educated,  cultured,  refined, 
gifted  with  the  thousand  natural  graces  that 
make  a  woman  beautiful,  could  she  conceive  an 
affection  for  a  brute  like  Abner  Hawkins, 
coarse,  illiterate,  grasping,  selfish,  lacking  in  all 
that  crude  nobility  which  springs  naturally 
from  the  soil  and  is  nurtured  by  the  sunshine. 
No,  a  thousand  times,  No. 

Now  and  then  since  their  old  associations 
had  been  broken  off  Newton  had  come  upon 
Sibley  at  times  in  a  musing  fit.  He  had  then 
seen  an  expression  flit  over  her  face  like  a  cloud 
of  hopelessness,  a  pained  look  of  dread  that 
could  not  but  associate  itself  in  Newton's  mind 

85 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

with  Abner  Hawkins  and  her  betrothal.  He 
felt  someway  that  if  he  could  but  again  get  her 
to  open  her  heart  to  him  as  she  had  once  done 
that  the  riddle  would  be  read  him.  But  he 
asked  himself  again  what  mattered  it  to  him. 
He  was  mowing  with  a  scythe  in  a  fence  corner 
when  the  thought  came  to  him.  He  stopped 
and  resting  the  handle  upon  the  ground  took  the 
stone  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  whet  the 
blade.  He  asked  himself  the  question  twice. 
He  stopped  and  looked  away  across  the  fields 
to  where  a  threshing  machine  was  booming. 
The  sound  seemed  to  him  to  be  calling  for  an 
answer  to  his  question.  He  took  off  his  hat 
and  looked  up  at  the  sun. 

"  Because  I  love  her,"  he  said  aloud. 

Then  he  began  to  swing  his  scythe  lustily. 

Newton  was  slower  than  usual  over  his 
chores  that  night  and  he  stopped  at  times  and 
absent-mindedly  gazed  at  the  lantern  as  if  its 
pale  rays  could  light  the  mental  darkness  he 
found  himself  in.  He  loved.  Why  deny  it? 
No,  he  did  not  deny  it.  He  loved.  He  re- 
86 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

peated  the  words  over  and  over  again  to  him 
self  as  if  to  become  used  to  them.  He  loved. 
What  then  ?  He  loved  a  girl  who  was  betrothed. 
Did  it  not  follow  that  he  loved  hopelessly? 
Would  it  not  be  better  for  him  to  go  away 
from  his  love,  or,  taking  it  with  him,  to  stifle 
it  in  new  impressions  ?  No,  he  did  not  want  to 
stifle  it.  His  love  was  his.  He  gloried  in  it. 
It  had  filled  his  heart.  It  had  become  a  part 
of  himself.  Though  it  might  be  hopeless;  still 
it  was  love,  But  was  it  hopeless?  His  reason 
answered  Yes.  His  heart  urged,  No. 

He  finished  his  chores.  He  went  out  of  the 
barn  and  unheeding  Lilt's  shouted  request  from 
the  stables  below,  to  "  wait  a  bit,"  he  started 
toward  the  fence  and  leaping  it  turned  down 
the  lane.  He  was  pulling  through  his  hand  a 
bit  of  straw  from  the  bedding  he  had  thrown 
down  for  the  horses.  Through  his  head  he  was 
pulling  and  hauling  the  questions  that  troubled 
him. 

Something  made  him  look  up.  Before  him, 
crouching  in  the  grass  below  the  walnut  trees 

87 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

was  Sibley.  A  locust  was  singing  shrilly  in  the 
leaves  above  her  and  she  was  looking  up  to 
ward  it  vacantly.  The  white  moonlight  fell 
full  upon  her  face  and  threw  a  pallor  over  it 
3ave  where  the  red  of  her  lips  blushed  out. 
Newton  stopped  and  caught  his  breath.  That 
divinity  he  thought,  his  divinity,  to  be  given 
over  to  the  arms  of  Abner  Hawkins?  Sibley 
heard  his  step  and  turned  toward  him.  A  flush 
overspread  her  face.  She  got  up  without  a 
word  and  turned  toward  the  house. 

Newton  took  a  step  forward. 

"  Sibley." 

She  turned  toward  him  half  helplessly.  He 
had  never  spoken  to  her  so  before.  There 
was  a  mingled  command  and  entreaty  in  his 
voice.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken  that 
name  except  in  a  whisper  to  himself.  The 
boldness  with  which  the  word  came  to  his  lips 
startled  him. 

"  Come  for  a  walk." 

Sibley  hesitated.  That  wistful  expression 
flitted  across  her  face  again. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Come." 

She  sighed,  half  turned  her  head  away,  then 
as  though  following  a  volition  not  her  own 
she  came  out  the  gate  and  silently  took  his  arm. 
He  turned  down  the  lane  and  followed  it  un 
til  it  led  them  out  into  the  main  travelled 
road. 

The  road  wound  its  dusty  length  out  before 
them.  The  moon  light  threw  a  certain  uncanny 
spell  over  it.  The  winds  were  whispering 
weird  tales  to  the  corn  fields  which  shivered 
restlessly.  On  either  hand  the  rag  weeds  hud 
dled  closely  to  the  sturdier  sun  flowers  which 
bowed  assent.  Grim,  uncertain  shadows 
reached  out  their  arms  to  gather  in  the  light. 
The  moon  beams  seemed  to  flee  from  them. 
The  spell  of  the  evening  threw  its  influence 
over  Sibley  and  Newton.  The  silence  about 
them  laid  its  heavy  fingers  on  their  lips  and 
bade  them  be  still.  They  walked  slowly  up  the 
road  without  speaking.  Now  and  then  Newton 
stole  a  look  at  Sibley.  Her  head  was  bent  and 
she  seemed  gazing  intently  at  her  feet  as  al- 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ternately  they  were  pushed  out  from  the  bottom 
of  her  dress.  She  hung  heavily  upon  his 
arm. 

"  I  wonder  where  this  road  leads  to  ?  "  New 
ton  said  after  a  time.  "Where  did  it  lead 
from?  Where  does  it  end?  " 

Sibley  shook  her  head 

"  It  leads  out  of  darkness,  and  it  leads  on 
into  darkness,"  she  said  musingly. 

"  How  much  then  it  is  like  life."  Newton  re 
plied.  "  That  comes  out  from  a  cloud  and  it 
disappears  again  into  a  cloud." 

"  There  is  one  great  difference  though." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  It  has  no  moon."  Sibley's  voice  was  dis- 
spirited. 

"  Ah,  but  there  is  a  mightier  light  given  to 
brighten  it,"  Newton  said  eagerly. 

"What  is  that?" 

"  Love." 

The  hand  on  Newton's  arm  trembled.  Sib- 
ley  did  not  answer  for  a  moment. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "  But  so 
90 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

often  dark  clouds  hang  over  it  and  the  light 
cannot  shine  through." 

"  Or,  again,  if  it  does  shine  through  it  often 
casts  shadows  that  are  worse  than  the  darkness 
itself." 

Sibley  looked  up  at  him  quickly  as  though 
she  would  read  his  meaning  in  his  eyes.  They 
were  looking  down  at  her  reproachfully.  Her 
own  fell  again.  She  did  not  reply. 

"  I  wonder  which  is  better,"  Newton  said 
after  awhile.  "  To  live  in  the  darkness  without 
the  light,  or  in  the  shadow  that  the  light  casts." 

She  shook  her  head  slowly.  She  spoke  with 
a  half  sigh. 

"  I  do  not  know.  We  do  not  have  the  choos 
ing.  We  must  take  the  darkness,  the  shadow, 
or  the  light  as  fate  places  us,  it  seems.  We 
have  as  little  control  over  that  light  as  we  have 
over  the  moon." 

"  Perhaps,"  Newton  replied  hastily.  "  But 
even  though  the  shadow  be  cast  over  us  we  need 
not  always  stay  within  it.  Sometimes  we  can 
break  out  into  the  full  sunshine." 

91 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  But  perhaps  fate  binds  us  hand  and  foot 
and  casts  us  in  the  shadow.  Then  we  cannot 
escape  from  it." 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  such  a  fate." 

"  Perhaps  then  duty  holds  one  there." 

"  It  could  not  be  a  duty." 

"  I  wish  I  could  think  so." 

The  words  came  whispered  from  Sibley's  lips 
like  the  outbreakings  of  a  prayer.  She  had  not 
meant  to  utter  them  audibly.  She  trembled 
when  she  heard  herself  speak  them.  An  agony 
had  seized  on  her  heart  and  the  words  were  the 
cry  her  heart  sent  up.  She  flushed  and  looked 
toward  the  ground. 

Newton's  heart  leaped.  He  stopped  and 
turned  toward  her.  He  spoke  huskily. 

"Where  are  you  Sibley?"  he  asked.  "In 
the  sunshine  or  in  the  shadow  ?  " 

She  could  not  answer. 

"  You  are  in  the  shadow,"  he  cried.  "It 
must  be  so.  I  cannot  think  it  otherwise.  What 
is  it  that  keeps  you  there?  " 

His  voice  was  low  and  pleading.  The  pent 
92 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

up  love  in  his  heart  was  struggling  for  freedom 
that  it  might  pour  itself  out  as  a  libation  at  her 
feet.  Newton  tried  to  hold  it  back  but  it  had 
gained  too  great  a  power. 

"  Answer  me,  Sibley,"  he  cried.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake  answer  me.  You  must  know 
that  I—." 

Sibley  shivered.  She  turned  a  white,  ago 
nised  face  toward  him.  She  clutched  harder  at 
his  arm. 

'  Don't!"  she  cried. 

She  stood  still  trembling.  They  had  just 
reached  the  top  of  a  swell.  At  their  feet  the 
road  plunged  down  into  a  swale.  A  great 
shadow  fell  over  it.  A  dank  air  rose  from  out 
it.  Sibley  turned  away. 

"  Let  us  go  back,"  she  said.  "  I  am  almost 
afraid  of  the  shadow. 

They  walked  back  to  the  house  in  silence. 


93 


Chapter  VII 


M 


ISS  LATEY  was  sitting  in  her  accus 
tomed  place  by  the  sugar  barrel  from 
whence  she  could  see  up  and  down 
the  road.  As  usual,  also,  she  was  knitting. 
Some  influence  seemed  to  soften  her  that  after 
noon.  Perhaps  it  was  the  delicate  scent  of 
ripening  hay  that  was  wafted  through  the  open 
door,  or  the  spell  of  summer  witchery  that 
hung  over  the  prairie.  The  hard  lines  about  her 
mouth  slowly  softened  and  the  light  of  ill- 
temper  died  out  of  her  eyes.  In  place  of  the 
frown  that  hung  almost  perpetually  over  her 
countenance  there  came  a  look  of  sadful  yearn 
ing.  The  shrunken  breast  heaved  and  a  sigh 
broke  from  between  her  half  parted  lips.  She 
stopped  knitting  and  resting  her  hands  in  her 
lap  gazed  vacantly  up  the  dusty  road  where 
the  sunlight  was  chasing  the  shadows.  Some 
thing  dimmed  her  eyes  for  she  brushed  her 
faded  hands  across  them.  Then,  as  though  the 
spell  about  her  had  taken  full  possession  of  her 
94 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

soul  and  had  broken  through  the  ice  that  had 
so  long  crusted  over  her  heart,  she  suddenly 
tossed  her  apron  over  her  head,  and  rocking  to 
and  fro  burst  into  a  fit  of  weeping.  Her  spare 
frame  seemed  almost  to  be  rended  by  the  sobs 
that  shook  it.  In  a  moment  she  was  quieter, 
but  the  tears  continued  to  trickle  through  her 
fingers  and  dampen  her  dress. 

She  was  still  sobbing  gently  when  a  buxom 
figure  darkened  the  doorway.  It  was  Amanda 
Speers.  She  was  a  great  coarse  woman  clad  in 
a  fantastic  mixture  of  male  and  female  attire. 
A  big  yellow  sun  bonnet  partially  hid  her  mas 
culine  features,  a  ragged  coat  covered  the  upper 
part  of  her  body,  while  her  lower  limbs  were 
hidden  by  a  short  calico  skirt  from  which 
protruded  a  pair  of  heavy  plow  boots. 

A  coarse  leer  spread  itself  over  her  face  as 
she  beheld  the  little  store  keeper  sobbing  in 
her  chair.  She  set  the  big  market  basket  she 
was  carrying  on  the  counter. 

"  How'de,  Miss  Latey,"  she  jeered,  "  Lover 
gone  back  on  yeh  ?  " 

95 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  old  lady  had  been  so  carried  away  by 
her  melting  passions  that  she  had  been  unaware 
of  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Speers.  A  shiver  ran 
over  her  as  the  harsh  voice  broke  in  on  her 
grief.  In  a  trice  the  fountains  of  her  heart 
were  frozen  up  again  and  the  softening  influ 
ence  was  chased  away.  When,  a  moment  later, 
she  pulled  down  the  apron  from  her  face  there 
was  only  a  suspicious  redness  around  her  eyes 
to  betray  her  tears. 

There  was  something  in  the  sneer  on  the  face 
of  the  woman  before  her  that  set  her  peppery 
nature  on  fire.  The  hot  blood  rushed  to  her 
face,  her  gray  eyes  flashed  ominously  and  the 
corners  of  her  mouth  drew  down  in  a  hard  look 
of  hate.  For  an  instant  she  glared  at  Mrs. 
Speers.  Then  she  sprang  from  her  chair  with 
a  shriek. 

"  Mandy  Speers  yeh  take  'at  ole  basket  of 
yourn  an'  git  out'  at  door  jes'  as  lively  as  yer 
lumberin'  ole  bones'll  let  yeh,  an'  don't  yeh 
never  let  me  see  yer  ugly  face  round  here  again 
or  I'll  scratch  yer  eyes  out."  She  advanced 
threateningly  upon  her  caller. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  red  face  beneath  the  sunbonnet  turned 
fairly  pale.  Mrs.  Speers  had  once  bested  one  of 
her  hired  men  in  a  pitched  battle,  but  there  was 
something  over-awing  in  the  wrath  of  the  little 
woman  before  her.  She  caught  up  her  basket 
and  retreated  to  the  door.  Miss  Latey  followed 
her  to  the  very  sill  and  pushed  her  across  the 
threshold.  Mrs.  Speers  was  bubbling  over 
with  anger,  but  it  was  not  until  she  reached  the 
turnpike  that  it  found  vent.  Then  turning  she 
shook  her  great  fist  at  the  wrathful  figure  in 
the  doorway  and  hurled  back  a  torrent  of  pro 
fanity. 

Miss  Latey's  spare  form  was  still  trembling 
with  fury  when  Ridgeby  came  around  from 
behind  the  store.  He  hesitated  as  he  looked  at 
the  wrathful  figure  before  him  and  then  at  the 
retreating  form  of  Mrs.  Speers,  who  at  every 
step  turned  back  to  shake  her  fist  at  the  little  red 
store.  Ridgeby  wanted  to  laugh  but  did  not 
dare. 

"  Em'ly  wants  a  little  tea,  Miss  Latey/'  he 
said  in  a  halting  voice  after  a  moment.  "  Guess 
two  bits  worth  '11  be  'miff." 

97 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Haint  sellin'  no  tea,"  snapped  Miss  Latey, 
without  taking  her  eyes  from  her  vanishing 
enemy. 

"  But  Em'ly  wants  it  mighty  bad,"  went  on 
the  old  man  gently.  "  She's  got  Elder  Sim 
mons  up  'air  t'  supper  an's  jes'  seen  she  haint 
got  a  mite  o'  tea  in  th'  hull  house." 

"Haint  got  no  tea  t'  sell,"  she  replied 
sharply. 

"  Why,  whats  yer  tea  fer,  Miss  Latey,  ef 
taint  t'  sell  ?  "  urged  Ridgeby.  "  Em'ly  wants 
'at  tea  mighty  bad  an'  she  wont  feel  right  ef 
she  don't  get  it." 

"  I  guess  my  tea's  my  own,  leastwise  it's  paid 
fer,  which  is  more'n  c'n  be  said  'bout  a  hull  lot 
o'  things  yeh've  got  up  t'  yer  house,  an'  I  guess 
I  don't  need  t'  sell  it  ef  I  don't  want  t'." 

"  But  th'  Elder—" 

"  What  do  I  care  for  th'  Elder,"  snapped  the 
old  woman.  "  Let  th'  Elder  drink  water.  I 
haint  goin'  t'  sell  yeh  no  tea,  Hiram  Ridgeby, 
so  yeh  might  as  well  be  gettin'  back  home  'fore 
th'  Elder  gits  lonesome." 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

A  shade  of  irritation  passed  over  Ridgeby's 
face. 

"  Don't  seem  t'  me  yeh'r  actin'  jes'  right," 
he  said,  half  timidly.  "  Seems  t'  me  like  yeh'd 
orter  be  more  'commodating." 

"  Huh !  Yeh  seem  t'  think  I'm  runnin'  this 
store  jes'  t'  'commodate  folks." 

A  flash  came  into  Ridgeby's  eyes. 

"  I  think  yeh'r  showin'  a  mighty  mean  spirit 
th'  way  yeh'r  actin',  that's  what  I  think,"  he 
said,  hastily  turning  away. 

The  old  lady's  form  suddenly  stiffened.  The 
angles  of  her  body  became  more  pronounced; 
the  sharpness  of  her  features  more  deeply  cut. 
A  lustre  blazed  in  her  eyes.  She  looked  almost 
like  a  snake  coiled  ready  to  launch  its  venom. 
She  gave  utterance  to  a  quick  exclamation  that 
caused  Ridgeby  to  turn  back. 

"  Well,  Hiram  Ridgeby,"  she  cried  sharply. 
Yeh'r  a  nice  one  t'  talk  about  a  mean  spirit  I 
must  say,  you  who  turned  yer  oldest  son  out  o' 
th'  house  t'  die.  You  who  shut  yeh'r  doors 
'gainst  yer  own  flesh  an'  blood.  Oh,  some  of 
99 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

us  haint  forgot  'at  while  yeh  fill  yer  house  full 
o'  paupers  there  want  room  in  it  for  them  'at 
God  sent  yeh.  Then  yeh  come  n'  tell  a  lone 
woman  she  shows  a  mean  spirit.  Mean  spirit 
Huh!" 

With  that  Miss  Latey  turned  and  slammed 
the  door  behind  her  and  although  several  of 
the  neighbours  came  during  the  afternoon  and 
knocked  and  knocked  at  the  little  red  store  they 
received  no  answer  and  returned  home  won 
dering. 

Ridgeby  looked  blankly  at  the  wall.  He 
stood  stiffly  as  though  his  muscles  had  been 
turned  to  stone.  His  jaws  had  fallen  upon  his 
chest.  A  glassy  look  came  into  his  eyes.  He 
drew  his  breath  with  a  deep  suspiration,  then 
seemed  to  cease  breathing.  A  look  of  awful 
agony  swept  over  his  face.  Turning  he  shuffled 
away  across  the  fields  with  his  eyes  bent  upon 
the  ground.  The  meadow  larks  were  piping 
all  around  him  but  he  did  not  seem  to  hear 
them.  Now  and  then  a  covey  of  quail  would 
start  from  his  feet  and  whirr  whistling  away, 
or  a  flock  of  crows,  frightened  by  his  near  ap- 
100 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

proach  would  wing  their  flight  out  of  danger. 
But  these,  with  all  the  other  sights  and  sounds 
of  nature's  golden  prime  of  summer  were  lost 
upon  him. 

Out  in  the  back  meadow  Newton  and  Lilt 
were  at  work  cocking  hay.  The  sun  beat  down 
with  a  blinding  glare.  The  perspiration  was 
streaming  off  them.  Every  now  and  then  one 
of  them  would  stop  for  a  moment  and  pulling 
off  his  great  straw  hat  would  fan  his  flushed 
face.  The  ripened  hay  sent  up  a  redolent  fra 
grance  that  the  men  drew  in  with  deep  breaths. 
A  road  skirted  one  side  of  the  field.  Now  and 
then  Lilt  would  call  out  cheerily  as  some  ac 
quaintance  passed.  Jake  Anson  went  by  in  a 
wagon  when  they  were  near  the  line  fence  and 
stopped  for  a  moment's  conversation.  When 
he  had  gone  on  Lilt  proposed  a  rest.  They  threw 
themselves  down  in  the  shade  of  the  cock  they 
were  building.  Each  gave  vent  to  an  involun 
tary  sigh  of  satisfaction.  Lilt  locked  his  hands 
behind  his  head  and  stretched  himself  out  at 
length. 

"  I  don't  believe  I'm  much  more  on  bein' 
101 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

lazy  'un  other  people,"  he  said  half  apologeti 
cally.  "  But  sence  I've  been  with  Ridgeby  I've 
learned  'at  there's  somepin  t'  get  out  of  a 
farm  'sides  work  an'  crops.  There  haint  no 
body  any  sprier  'un  Ridgeby  on  work  for  all 
of  his  years.  He  can  shock  uz  many  oats  in  a 
day  now  as  two  thirds  o'  th'  men  in  th'  country. 
But  he  has  a  way  o'  stoppin'  now  an'  then  when 
things  haint  pushin*  too  much  an'  lookin' 
around  t'  see  ef  he  can't  find  somepin  purty 
handy.  Why  th'  ole  man'll  stop  his  plow  in  a 
furrow  t'  watch  a  woodpecker,  an'  I've  seen  him 
set  on  th'  handles  fer  half  an  hour  lookin'  at  a 
flock  o'  black  birds  kitin'  about  over  head.  He 
allus  looks  kinder  sheepish  ef  yeh  catch  him  at 
it  an'  tells  yeh  he  jes'  stopped  a  minnit  t'  breathe 
th'  horses.  Someway  I'm  kinder  gettin'  int'  th' 
habit  m'self.  I  haint  much  on  po'try  an'  such, 
but  seems  t'  me  that  there  haint  nothin'  more 
like  a  poem  'un  a  hay  field.  Some  folks  don't 
see  nahthin'  in  it  but  th'  heat  an'  th'  sweat  an' 
th'  hard  work.  But  look  round  here.  There 
want  never  nahthin'  purtier.  There's  th'  sky 
up  there  like  a  million  blue  eyes  run  into  one, 
1 02 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

an'  tli'  sun  blazin'  down  like  a  woman's  smile, 
an'  every  thing  catches  up  th'  light  an'  sends 
it  back.  Th'  wind  blows  kind  o'  soft  like  it  'uz 
makin'  love  t'  th'  fields  an'  they  nod  away  jes* 
uz  though  they's  sayin'  yes." 

Lilt  stopped  and  sank  lower  into  his  luxuri 
ous  couch.  He  stretched  his  legs  wide  apart 
then  pulled  them  up  and  taking  off  his  hat  bal 
anced  it  upon  his  knee. 

"  You  must  be  in  love,  Lilt,"  Newton  said, 
quizzically. 

Lilt  grinned  sheepishly. 

"  Don't  know  uz  that  follows,  though  bein' 
in  love  haint  such  an  awful  fix."  He  pulled  a 
blade  of  hay  and  began  chewing  it.  "  I'm 
'fraid  it's  gettin'  t'  be  an  epidemic  in  th' 
family." 

"  How's  that !  "  Newton  inquired  innocently. 

"  Urn  1  Well  answer  yer  own  riddles.  Ef 
we're  goin'  t'  finish  this  field  t'night  we'd  better 
stop  lazyin'." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  catching  up  his 
fork  bent  to  his  work  with  a  will  that  soon 
made  up  for  lost  time.  A  man  bearing  a  spade 
103 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

over  his  shoulder  stalked  past  the  line  fence.  It 
was  Hi  Simms.  Lilt  shouted  to  him. 

"Hello  Hi!" 

Simms  grunted  an  answer. 

"  Have  yeh  met  our  new  hand  ?  "  Lilt  called. 

Simms  turned  toward  Newton  and  passed  on 
with  an  oath. 

"  I'm  'fraid  Simms  haint  of  a  fergivin'  na 
ture,"  Lilt  said,  grimly.  Newton  smiled  rather 
seriously. 

Another  figure  came  down  the  road.  It  was 
a  girl  riding  a  plow  horse  bare  back.  Her  sun 
bonnet  had  fallen  back  from  her  head  display 
ing  a  round,  good  natured  face  that  reflected 
the  colours  of  perfect  health.  She  sent  a  sturdy 
hail  across  the  field. 

"Hello,  Lilt!" 

Lilt  turned  quickly.  A  broad  smile  spread 
over  his  face. 

"Hello  Sue!"  he  called  back.  "Hold  up 
a  minnit." 

He  dropped  his  fork  where  he  stood  and 
hastened  up  to  the  fence,  close  to  which  the  girl 
104 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

had  drawn  her  horse.  Newton  leaned  on  the 
handle  of  his  fork  and  looked  at  them  for  a 
moment.  He  smiled  to  himself  Then  he 
sighed  heavily  and  turned  away.  An  agonised 
cry  was  ringing  in  his  ears  again.  Sibley's 
cry  when  he  wanted  to  tell  her  that  he  loved 
her :  "  Don't."  The  cry  had  stunned  him 
then,  had  half  deadened  his  sensibilities,  but 
ever  since  it  had  rung  in  his  ears  with  a  persist 
ence  that  drowned  out  all  other  sounds,  while 
there  glimmered  before  his  eyes  the  vision  of 
Sibley's  face,  white,  drawn,  almost  tortured, 
as  she  shrieked  it.  He  had  tried  to  keep 
the  sound  of  that  cry  out  of  his  mind  but 
it  beat  constantly  at  the  doors  of  his  senses 
and  forced  itself  in. 

"  Don't."  It  was  a  cry  that  drowned  every 
half-formed  hope.  Its  sound  awoke  him  from 
a  dream  and  robbed  him  of  even  the  excuse  for 
dreaming.  It  seemed  to  sound  the  death  knell 
of  his  love,  yet  it  rang  on  his  heart  strings 
with  a  pulsing  harmony. 

"Don't."  What  did  it  mean?  Was  it  a 
105 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

command,  or  an  appeal  ?  Was  it  a  frown,  or  a 
flood  of  tears  ?  Was  it  a  cry,  or  a  wail  ?  Was 
it  a  rebuke,  or  a  petition  ? 

It  rang  in  his  ears  in  a  dozen  different  keys. 
Its  note  ranged  from  discord  to  harmony.  It 
bade  him  forget,  and  it  bade  him  hope.  It 
stopped  his  voice  and  it  urged  him  to  speak.  It 
told  him  he  was  not  loved  and  it  told  him  he 
was  loved.  At  last  its  varying  cadence  rolled 
into  one  that  bade  him  wait.  "  Wait  and 
hope?"  he  asked  himself.  No,  only  wait. 

He  had  forgotten  Lilt  and  the  girl  at  the 
fence.  He  had  almost  forgotten  where  he  was. 
He  roused  himself.  Lilt  was  at  work  again. 

"  Been  t'  sleep?  "  Lilt  asked. 

"  No,  only  resting.  Who  was  the  young 
lady?" 

"  Sue  Graham." 

"  A  very  pretty  girl." 

Lilt  answered  nonchalantly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.     Some  folks  think  so." 

Newton  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  You  overdo  your  carelessness,"  he  said. 
106 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Why  don't  you  say  that  you  think  her  the 
prettiest  girl  in  the  world  and  ease  your  con 
science  ?  " 

"  Mind  yer  own  bizness.  She  hain't  engaged 
to  another  feller  anyway." 

One  of  the  tines  of  Newton's  fork  broke  with 
a  snap.  Perhaps  it  was  because  he  so  savagely 
thrust  it  into  the  hay  that  it  buried  its  point  in 
the  ground.  Without  a  word  he  started  toward 
the  barn  for  another. 

As  he  strode  over  the  stubble  his  pursuing 
thoughts  were  upon  him  again.  "  Wait." 
Wait  for  what?  Wait  to  see  every  vestige  of 
hope  pass  from  him  ?  Wait  for  the  darkness  to 
settle  all  about  him?  Wait  to  see  Sibley  the 
wife  of  another?  Wait  for  his  love  to  die? 
Wait  for  these  things,  or  wait  for  what  ?  " 

He  came  to  the  barn  and  entered  it.  He  was 
just  about  to  take  down  a  fork  from  the  wall 
when  a  sound  startled  him.  He  listened.  The 
sounds  came  from  the  loft.  They  were  sobs, 
the  sobs  of  a  man  in  awful  agony.  Newton 
would  have  turned  away  but  something  held 
107 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

him  where  he  was.  With  the  sobs  there  came  a 
voice,  choked,  husky,  tortured.  The  voice  was 
Ridgeby's. 

"Oh,  my  God,"  it  cried.  "Are  yeh  ever 
goin'  t'  fergive  me,  an*  free  me  from  th'  mem'ry 
of  it.  Oh  Jim,  our  Jim,  th'  boy  yeh  sent  us  an' 
who  I  wouldn't  have  an'  sent  away.  Oh  God 
don't  torture  me  no  more.  It's  killin'  me,  it's 
killin'  me.  Haint  I  suffered  enough.  Haint 
yeh  taken  every  one  fr'm  us  because  I  sent  th' 
one  away.  Haint  yeh  torn  our  hearts  with 
bereavements.  Haint  yeh  given  us  little  ones'  t' 
love  an'  'n  taken  'em  from  us  again.  Oh  God 
I  can't  stand  no  more.  Oh  God  in  Heaven  de 
liver  me  from  my  torture.  Fergive  me  an'  let 
me  know  'at  I  am  fergiven.  Don't  do  with  me, 
thy  son,  as  I  did  with  my  son.  Don't  refuse  t' 
fergive  me  as  I  refused  t'  fergive  him.  Don't 
turn  yer  face  from  me  as  I  turned  my  face  from 
him.  I  know  how  awffilly  I  sinned.  I  fergive 
him  as  yeh  commandest  me  seven  times  an1 
seven  times  seven  I  bore  with  him,  but  I  thought 
I  could  bear  no  more  an'  sent  him  away.  Oh, 
108 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

God,  yeh  must  know  how  I've  repented  of  it. 
Yeh  must  know  how  I've  suffered  fer  it.  Yeh 
must  know  of  the  sleepless  nights  an'  th'  tor 
tured  days.  Yeh  must  know  how  I've  tried  to 
undo  th'  wrong  but  it's  been  in  vain.  I  opened 
th'  door  an'  told  him  t'  go  an'  he  went,  an'  we 
haint  never  seen  him  sence.  Fer  twenty-five 
years  I've  suffered.  Oh  take  it  from  me  now 
I  can  bear  no  more.  I  can  bear  no  more.  I  can 
bear  no  more." 

The  words  became  choked  with  sobs.    New 
ton  stole  quietly  out. 


109 


Chapter   VIII 

AS  a  usual  thing  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Beverly  Corners  the  semi-annual  visit 
of  the  minister  to  his  parishioners  is 
an  occasion  of  great  moment.  Even  the  less 
piously  inclined  take  on  for  the  time  a  sancti 
monious  air  and  arrayed  in  the  starched  dis 
comfort  of  their  Sunday  clothes  agree  with  all 
the  articles  of  faith  with  devout  reverence. 
They  take  upon  themselves,  as  it  were,  the 
odour  of  sanctity  along  with  that  of  tobacco  and 
camphor  balls.  The  season  which  the  minister 
spends  with  a  family  is  one  of  solemnity.  The 
table  creaks  under  its  weight  of  viands,  the 
worldly  pleasure  of  whose  consumption  is  tem 
pered  with  doctrinal  discussions  of  fore-ordina 
tion,  predestination  and  election.  The  head 
of  the  family  loses  himself  in  the  labyrinth  of 
an  argument  and  allows  his  spiritual  shepherd 
to  lead  him  out.  His  better  half  fidgets,  makes 
excuses  for  the  cooking  which  privately  she 
exults  over.  The  hired  hands  eat  in  stupid 
no 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

silence  and  hurry  away  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  children,  banished  to  the  uncertainties  of 
a  second  table,  hang  about  the  doors  and  await 
their  turn  with  ill-concealed  impatience. 

The  old  pastor  always  hailed  with  a  sensa 
tion  of  relief  the  day  appointed  to  spend  with 
the  Ridgeby  household.  There  was  an  air  of 
quiet  holiness  about  the  place  that  melted  his 
austere  piety  into  a  more  fervent  passion.  He 
there  came  upon  a  love  of  the  Deity  which 
displaced  for  a  time  his  sermonized  fear.  He 
laid  aside,  while  with  them,  his  hard,  uncom 
promising  doctrines  of  belief  and  allowed  him 
self  to  be  swept  into  the  arms  of  the  one  ab 
sorbing,  comforting,  healing  promise  of  love. 
He  ceased  to  think  of  himself  as  the  appointed 
agent  of  the  most  High,  the  earthly  warrior  of 
Divinity,  put  here  to  battle  against  the  forces  of 
evil,  and  thought  of  himself  only  as  the  child 
of  Love. 

But  that  evening  a  pall  hung  about  the 
Ridgeby  tea-table.  None  of  those  about  it 
could  have  explained  its  presence.  If  each  had 
in 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

attempted  it  each  would  have  given  a  different 
answer.  Yet  there  it  was  and  no  one  was  free 
from  its  influence.  Ridgeby's  face  was  drawn 
and  set  and  in  its  deepened  lines  gave  token 
of  the  mental  agony  he  had  gone  through  out 
in  the  barn.  There  was  a  tremulousness  about 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  and  a  half  sigh  would 
break  from  him  at  times  to  be  hidden  by  a 
cough.  Now  and  then  he  would  sweep  his 
eyes  over  the  five  vacant  chairs  each  of  which 
his  quickened  memory  peopled  with  a  child. 
Oblivious  to  his  duties  as  host  he  took  no  part 
in  the  conversation  which  his  wife  vainly  tried 
to  maintain.  Even  the  old  minister  found  his 
fount  of  garrulousness  checked  by  an  influence 
unknown  to  it  before.  The  usual  vapid  cur 
rent  of  his  utterances  became  dried  up  and  the 
influence  about  him  took  away  from  him  even 
the  desire  to  set  it  in  motion  again. 

Abner  Hawkins,  coming  over  in  the  after 
noon  to  borrow  a  hand  rake,  had  been  invited  to 
stay  to  tea.  He  sat  next  to  Newton  whom  he 
favoured  at  times  with  a  frown.  Newton  tried 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

to  treat  him  with  a  degree  of  politeness,  but  fail 
ing  in  that  had  fallen  back  on  the  easier  policy 
of  ignoring  him.  Sibley  sitting  opposite  now 
and  then  looked  up  at  them.  Perhaps  she  was 
comparing  their  faces.  She  appeared,  how 
ever,  quite  unconcerned  and  she  was  the  only 
one  at  the  table  who  seemed  entirely  at  ease. 
Lilt,  overawed  by  the  presence  of  the  minister, 
had  relapsed  into  a  silence  which  he  broke  only 
with  grunts.  Even  old  Reuben's  chattering 
tongue  was  less  active  than  usual. 

"I'll  tell  yeh  what  'tis,  Elder/'  he  piped, 
after  the  silence  had  become  to  him  unendur 
able,  "  Things  er  mighty  dull  round  here  now 
seems  t'  me,  an'  ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice,  yeh'll 
wake  'em  up  a  bit.  What  we  need  is  a  good 
ole-fashioned  revival.  None  o'  yer  tame 
meetin'  ev'ry  other  night  affairs,  but  a  reg'ler 
amen  time  with  plenty  o'  glory  mixed  up  in  it. 
They  need  stirrin'  up.  That's  what  they  need. 
Yeh'll  give  'em  a  smell  o'  brimstone  ef  yeh'll 
take  my  advice. 

The  minister  sighed. 

"3 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGRBY'S 

"  A  visitation  of  the  spirit  at  the  present 
time  would  be  most  cheering/'  he  answered. 
"  I  have  been  feeling  myself  that  some  special 
endeavours  should  be  made.  I  am  afraid  that 
we  have  not  been  pressing  the  work  in  the  vine 
yard  as  bravely  as  the  Master  would  wish.  I 
hope  I  am  not  failing  in  my  duty." 

"  Give  'em  more  fire,  Elder,  that's  my  ad 
vice,"  Reuben  exclaimed,  swinging  his  hand 
about  his  head  to  warn  away  a  too  familiar  fly. 
"  Give  'em  more  fire.  That's  what  they  need. 
Let  'em  smell  th'  brimstone  comin'  up  through 
th'  floor.  Yeh  preachers  er  too  easy  on  sin 
ners  now  days  seems  t'  me.  Yeh  don't  show 
'em  what  they're  comin' t'.  Yeh  let  'em  jog  'long 
th'  road  t'  perdition  altogether  t'  easy,  when 
what  they  need  is  proddin'.  Give  it  t'  'em, 
Elder,  that's  my  advice.  Warm  'em  up.  Spare 
not  th'  ungodly  an'  temporise  not  with  th' 
wicked.  Better  take  my  advice,  Elder,  an'  heat 
'em  up  a  bit." 

"  Reuben  seems  to  want  to  drive  people  into 
Heaven  with  a  prairie  fire,"  Newton  said  qui- 
114 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

etly.  "  How  much  will  a  man  be  worth  in 
Heaven  who  has  to  be  scared  into  going 
there?" 

"  Can't  go  back  on  scripture,"  Reuben  piped 
decidedly.  "  An'  ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice  yeh 
won't  try  tV 

"  Let  the  wicked  flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come,"  the  minister  sighed. 

"  Come  unto  me  all  ye  who  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden,"  Newton  returned  quietly. 

"  They  that  have  done  evil  shall  come  into 
the  resurrection  of  damnation." 

"  They  who  have  done  good  into  the  resur 
rection  of  Life,"  Newton  rejoined. 

"  Who-so-ever  resisteth  the  power  shall  re 
ceive  unto  themselves  damnation." 

"  Knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you." 

"  He  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned." 

The  old  minister's  face  was  taking  on  an 
expression  more  austere.  His  spare  form  be 
came  more  erect.  His  dull  eyes  lighted.  Their 
shaggy  brows  drew  down  closer  over  them. 
His  voice  took  on  a  deeper  and  fuller  intonation 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

and  as  he  poured  out  his  anathemas  with  a 
growing  animation  he  seiemed  to  forget  his 
surroundings  and  allowed  his  voice  to  grow 
stronger.  His  vehemence  called  Ridgeby  out 
of  his  dreams.  Reuben's  face  took  on  an  ex 
pression  of  triumph.  He  chuckled  to  himself. 
The  old  minister  ceased  for  a  moment  and 
turned  his  piercing  eyes  full  on  Newton. 

"  Young  man,"  he  thundered,  "  Have  you 
the  fear  of  God  in  your  heart?  " 

"  I  hope  not,"  Newton  returned  slowly. 

"  Prepare  ye  then  for  the  fires  of  Hell." 

"  I  hope  that  my  heart  contains  something 
which  my  Creator  will  esteem  more  highly  than 
fear." 

The  minister's  face  looked  a  question. 

"  Love." 

Supper  was  finished.  The  entire  family  went 
out  into  the  front  yard  beneath  the  walnut 
trees.  Off  toward  the  west  the  sun  was  flaming 
a  golden  farewell.  A  tree  toad  was  singing 
somewhere.  There  was  no  wind  and  the  trees 
were  motionless.  Ridgeby  told  of  Mandy 
Spear's  adventure  with  Miss  Latey. 
116 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

""I  am  afraid  that  Sister  Latey  has  very  little 
of  the  Christian  spirit  in  her  soul,"  the  min 
ister  said  solemnly,  tipping  back  against  the 
house  and  putting  the  tips  of  his  fingers  to 
gether. 

"  I  b'lieve  she's  possessed  of  th'  devil/'  Mrs. 
Ridgeby  broke  in. 

"  I  am  verily  afraid  that  you  are  right,  as 
usual,  Sister  Ridgeby,"  the  minister  assented, 
nodding  his  head. 

"  Now  I  believe  Miss  Latey's  got  her  good 
pints  jes'  as  well's  any  body  else,  only  we  don't 
happen  t'  see  'em,"  Ridgeby  put  in  char 
itably. 

"  Pints,  pints,"  snapped  his  wife.  "  I  shud 
think  she  did  have  pints,  an'  she  haint  happy 
less  she's  stickin'  somebody  with'  em  neither." 

"  Now  I  tell  yeh  what  'tis,  Elder,"  Ridgeby 
said  slowly.  "  It's  too  bad  'bout  Miss  Latey. 
Why  she  an?  I  ust  t'  be  young  folks  t'gether. 
Don't  seem  like  it  could  be  th'  same  girl."  He 
stopped  a  moment  and  looked  up  into  the  wal 
nut  trees.  A  rough  tenderness  came  into  his 
voice  when  he  spoke  again. 
117 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Purty  girl  she  ust  t'  be  in  them  days,  gone 
on  over  fifty  years  now.  She  'uz  light  com 
plected  an*  her  skin  'uz  smooth  an'  white.  Her 
cheeks  'uz  as  red  as  an  early  pippin.  A  robin's 
chirp  want  no  sweeter  'n  her  voice,  and  when 
she  laughed  she  showed  two  rows  o'  purty 
teeth  'at  were  as  white's  fresh  milk.  A  great 
big  dimple  ust  t'  play  hide  an'  seek  round  her 
mouth.  She  had  great,  long  brown  hair  'at  fell 
in  a  ripple  way  t'  her  waist,  an'  her  great  blue 
eyes  were  jes'  shinin'  with  fun  an'  mischief." 
Ridgeby  stopped  and  looked  up  into  the  wal 
nut  trees  again. 

"  She  'uz  a  little  body,  but  as  plump  as  a 
butter  ball.  Th'  boys  'uz  all  sweet  on  her,  an' 
I  didn't  blame  'em  a  bit.  Fact  is  I  ust' t'  spark 
'er  m'self  a  little  'fore  I  met  Em'ly."  Ridgeby 
gazed  quizzically  at  his  spouse. 

"  An'  I  b'lieve  yer  sorry  yeh  didn't  marry 
her  'stead  o'  me,"  she  answered  with  affected 
asperity. 

"  Oh,  Pshaw,  now  Em'ly,  yeh  know  'taint  no 
sech  thing.     Don't  s'pose  I'd  a  stood  no  show 
nohow.    She  'uz  allus  givin'  me  some  sort  of  a 
118 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

dig,  and  La,  how  she  does  hate  me  now.  We 
did  ust  t'  go  round  a  good  deal  t'gether.  I  re 
member  onct  when  a  feller  come  through  here 
we  went  an?  had  our  daggertypes  taken.  I 
shudn't  be  surprised  ef  hern  'uz  kickin'  round 
th'  house  yet  sommers.  I  s'pose  th'  one  I  gin 
her  went  int'  th'  stove  fifty  years  ago." 

"  I  know  her's  did  anyhow,"  laughed  his 
wife. 

"  Folks  said  as  how  we  must  be  engaged, 
but,  La,  there  want  nahthin'  in  it,"  Ridgeby 
went  on  after  a  minute.  "  Purty  soon  Em'ly's 
pa  moved  in  on  th'  farm  next  t'  mine  an'  I 
fell  smack  in  love  with  her,  an'  Miss  Latey 
went  t'  goin'  with  somebody  else.  Si  Hawkins 
seems  like.  I  never  seen  much  of  her  after 
that.  She  didn't  go  out  much  anymore.  Her 
pa's  health  want  very  good  and  I  guess  she 
stayed  home  with  him." 

Ridgeby's  eyes  had  a  vacant  look  in  them 
and  he  seemed  to  be  talking  more  to  himself 
than  to  his  auditors.  He  paid  but  little  atten 
tion  to  them. 

"  It  want  long  after  me  an'  Em'ly  uz  mar- 
119 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ried  when  Miss  Latey's  pa  died,  an'  she  took 
down  sick  right  after  it.  I  guess  she  over  did 
takin'  care  o'  th'  ole  man.  She  was  low  for 
quite  a  spell  an'  folks  scarcely  thought  she'd 
come  through  it,  but  she  did  after  a  while.  But 
her  sickness  left  her  changed  a  good  deal.  Her 
purty  hair  all  come  out  an'  it  never  come  in 
heavy  agen,  an'  her  cheeks  stayed  pale  an'  sal 
low,  an'  th'  mischief  'uz  all  gone  out  of  'er  eyes. 
She  never  'uz  like  she  was  before,  an'  when  her 
good  looks  went  her  temper  come  in,  an'  what 
a  change!  Yeh'd  never  think  it  'uz  th'  same 
girl.  Some  folks  thought  as  how  ther  must  a 
been  a  love  scrape  mixed  up  in  it,  but  I  didn't 
know  nahthin  'bout  it.  Come  t'  think  'bout  it 
Si  Hawkins  did  light  out  'bout  that  time  and 
never  come  back  no  more.  That  may  have  had 
somepin  t'  do  with  it. 

"  Jess  as  soon  as  she  got  up  she  sold  what 
little  prop'ty  th'  ole  man  left  an'  went  t'  keepin' 
store.  Th'  fust  thing  we  knew  she  'uz  jes'  'uz 
she  is  now,  an  ugly  cross  ole  maid.  I — I — 
can't  help  feelin'  kinder  sorry  fer  her." 

T2O 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Ridgeby  brushed  what  might  have  been  a 
tear  out  of  his  eyes  and  changed  the  subject. 

Abner  turned  to  Lilt. 

"  Coin'  t'  th'  dance  down  t'  Thompson's, 
Tuesday  night,  Lilt?" 

"  Guess  I  will.    You  an'  Sibley  goin'?  " 

"  Course.    Who  yeh  goin'  to  take?  " 

"  Had  guessed  I'd  take  one  o'  th'  Graham 
girls  over,  but  changed  m'  mind.  Newt  an'  I 
er  goin'  it  alone.  I  want  t'  give  him  a  knock 
down  t'  all  th'  folks,  an'  couldn't  do  much  with 
a  girl  taggin'.  Help  me  out,  won't  yeh  ?  Newt 
don't  know  nobody  an'  I  want  t'  get  him  in." 

Abner  scowled. 

"  Guess  me  an'  Sib's  got  all  we  can  tend  t', 
ain't  we  Sib?  Anyhow  I'm  kinder  keerful 
who  I  give  knockdowns  t'.  Yeh  can't  be  too 
perticular  yeh  know.''* 

Sibley  looked  quickly  at  Newton.  He  was 
gazing  away  toward  the  west  and  did  not  seem 
to  have  heard  Abner 's  words.  Lilt  frowned 
and  changed  the  subject. 

"  How's  Simpkins  makin'  it,  Ab?  " 

121 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Ain't  doin'  much.  Dad's  got  t'  put  'im  off 
next  week.  Kind  o'  tough." 

Lilt's  voice  became  full  of  a  surprised  dis 
gust. 

"  Yeh  don't  mean  t'  say  that  th'  ole  man's 
goin'  t"  put  'im  out  jes'  fore  harvest?  " 

"  Time's  up.  Dad  foreclosed  las'  fall  yeh 
know,"  Abner  returned  carelessly. 

"  Why,  he  cud  pret'  near  raise  th'  mortgage 
ef  yeh'd  only  wait  till  after  harvest,"  Lilt  ex 
claimed.  "  He  an'  his  wife  have  worked  like 
nailers,  an'  pret'  near  killed  '<emselves.  They've 
got  a  whoopin'  big  crop,  too." 

"  Yes,"  said  Abner,  "  I  'us  lookin'  it  over  las' 
night.  Dad'll  make  a  good  thing  out  o'  that 
crop.  Wheat's  headed  out  so  heavy  t'  stalks 
bend  almost  down  t'  th'  ground.  Corn's  doin' 
mighty  well,  too !  " 

"How's  th'  ole  woman?"  Lilt  asked  to 
cover  up  his  rising  anger. 

"  Pret'  bad  off  I  guess.  Can't  live  more'n 
a  month.  Dad  'uz  lucky  in  this  deal.  He's  got 
a  man  t'  go  right  in  next  week.  Simpkins 
122 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wanted  him  t'  wait  a  little  but  Dad  couldn't 
figure  no  way  out." 

"  Where  're  they  goin'?  "     Lilt  growled  it. 

"  Dunno,"  Abner  answered  carelessly. 
"  Dad's  got  a  good  man  t'  go  in.  He  harvests 
th'  crop  fer  a  tenth.  Dad's  had  his  eyes  on  that 
north  medder  o'  Thompson's  fer  some  time. 
Guess  he'll  make  'miff  out  o'  this  deal  t'  buy  it. 
Thompson's  holdin'  it  pret'  stiff,  but  guess  he'll 
come  down." 

"  What  does  Simpkins  get  out  o'  th'  crop?  " 
Lilt  asked.  "  Two  thirds?  " 

"  Two  thirds?  "  exclaimed  Abner.  "  Well, 
I  guess  Simpkins  don't  get  no  two  thirds  of  our 
crop/' 

Newton  turned  away  from  the  sunset. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  he  asked  slowly, 
"  That  you  and  your  father  are  going  to  take  a 
farm  away  from  a  man  when  with  three  weeks 
longer  time  he  could  redeem  it;  that  you  are 
going  to  steal  a  crop  which  a  man  has  slaved 
months  to  bring  forth,  for  which  he  has  toiled 
and  laboured  and  to  which  he  has  given  his 
123 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

very  life;  that  you  are  going  to  take  the  prod 
uct  of  this  man's  sweat,  for  which  you  have  not 
given  a  moment's  thought  or  as  much  as  raised 
a  finger  to  produce,  and  give  the  producer 
nothing ;  that  you  are  also  going  to  turn  a  dying 
woman  into  the  road  that  you  may  make  a  few 
dollars?" 

"  Law's  law,"  Abner  exclaimed  doggedly. 
"  We  can't  go  behind  that." 

"If  you  are  going  to  do  these  things,"  con 
tinued  Newton,  a  little  warmer,  "  You  and  your 
father  are  a  set  of  the " 

He  caught  an  expression  on  Sibley's  face. 
It  was  an  appeal. 

"  Of  the most  punctilious  business  men  I 

ever  met." 

He  got  up  and  walked  toward  the  barn. 
Lilt  followed  him. 

There  was  a  sneer  on  Abner's  face.  On  Sib- 
ley's  a  look  such  as  a  buried  heart-ache  gives. 


124 


Chapter   IX 


TUESDAY  night  came.    There  was  to 
be  a  dance  in  Thompson's  new  barn. 
Lilt     and     Newton     hurried     through 
their  chores.    Just  as  they  finished  Abner  drove 
up  in  his  democrat  wagon  and  took  Sibley  in. 
He  could  have  taken  Newton  and  Lilt  on  the 
rear  seat  but  he  did  not  suggest  the  idea.     He 
was  in  his  working  clothes. 

When  the  milking  was  finished  Lilt  and 
Newton  started  for  Thompson's  on  horseback. 
They  did  not  stop  for  saddles  but  rode  the  plow 
horses  bareback. 

A  heavy  rain  had  fallen  during  the  day  and 
the  roads  were  heavy  with  mud.  The  night  was 
pitchy  dark.  Black  clouds,  scurrying  low, 
threatened  to  renew  the  downpour.  The  air 
was  chilly  and  damp.  A  fog  was  settling 
down.  Lilt  carried  a  lantern.  The  dismal 
light  it  threw  was  all  but  lost  in  the  heavy  dark 
ness.  The  horses  followed  the  road  mechanic 
ally.  Neither  Newton  nor  Lilt  had  much  to 
125 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

say.  There  was  something  depressing  in  the 
atmosphere.  A  light  twinkled  at  them  down 
the  road. 

"  That's  Simpkins's  place,"  said  Lilt,  as  they 
came  nearer  to  it.  "  He  must  be  in  a  pret'  bad 
way.  Ain't  Hawkins  a  mean  cuss  t'  put  'im 
out?  He  worked  like  a  nailer  in  hopes  he  cud 
save  th'  farm  an'  now  he  loses  th'  farm  an'  th' 
crop,  too.  A  feller  might  'uz  well  die  an'  be 
done  with  it  when  he  gets  into  Old  George 
Hawkins's  hands.  I  b'lieve  he'd  skin  flints  for 
a  cent  and  try  'em  out  for  th'  fat." 

"  I  don't  see  how  the  fiend  can  sleep  at 
night,"  exclaimed  Newton  warmly. 

"Don't  b'lieve  he  does,"  Lilt  returned. 
"  He's  too  mean  t'  spend  time,  even  sleepin'." 

"What's  Simpkins  going  to  do?"  Newton 
asked. 

"  Dunno.  I  saw  him  t'other  day.  He  was 
lookin'  mighty  glum,  an'  didn't  have  much  t' 
say." 

As  they  were  passing  Simpkins's  house  they 
heard  a  feeble  cry  that  sounded  like  that  of  a 
126 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

child.  The  cry  came  again  a  little  louder. 
Newton  thought  it  came  from  the  side  of  the 
road  and  he  checked  his  horse.  Lilt  stopped 
also  and  holding  his  lantern  over  his  head 
peered  into  the  darkness.  Again  the  cry.  With 
it  came  a  woman's  whispered  "  Sh !  "  Lilt 
uttered  an  exclamation  and  sprang  to  the 
ground.  Newton  followed  him. 

The  pale  light  from  the  lantern  fell  upon  a 
rude  bed  set  up  by  the  fence.  It  bore  a  woman 
with  a  child  by  her  side.  Sitting  on  the  ground 
with  his  head  buried  in  his  hands  was  a  man. 

"  Is  that  you,  Simpkins?  "  Lilt  cried. 

There  was  no  answer  for  a  moment.  Then 
the  man's  voice  broke  into  the  night.  It  was 
husky  and  hard,  sullen  and  hopeless. 

"  Yes,  it's  me." 

A  stronger  light  from  the  lantern  fell  upon 
the  bed.  The  woman  turned  feebly  toward  it, 
blinking  her  eyes.  The  child  hushed  its  cry. 
The  woman's  face  was  ydlow  and  sunken.  The 
bones  protruded  as  though  the  skin  was 
stretched  over  a  skull.  The  teeth  looked 
127 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ghastly.  Her  eyes  were  staring  and  had  the 
lustre  of  fever  in  them.  A  claw-like  hand 
rested  on  the  baby's  cheek.  The  woman 
coughed.  It  seemed  that  the  effort  would 
shake  her  in  pieces.  The  man  did  not  look  up, 
but  pulled  his  head  deeper  in  his  rounded  shoul 
ders. 

"What's  the  matter?"  Lilt  asked  after  a 
moment. 

Simpkins  answered  without  moving. 

"  Put  out." 

"  Damnation !  "  a  second  later.  "  What  're 
you  goin'  t'  do?  " 

"  Die." 

The  woman  coughed  again.  The  child 
wailed.  Lilt  drew  himself  up. 

"  Not  jes'  yet.  Did  Hawkins  put  yeh  out 
here?  Couldn't  he  even  let  yeh  stay  in  the 
house?" 

"  We're  here,  hain't  we?  " 

Again  the  woman  coughed.  She  tried  to 
draw  the  thin  coverlid  closer  about  her.  The 
fog  was  sinking  down  denser  and  it  began  to 
drizzle. 

128 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Didn't  he  give  yeh  no  show  'tall?"  Lilt 
asked. 

"  He  said  we  cud  go  t'  th'  pore  house.  He 
'uz  payin'  taxes  t'  s'port  that,  'n  'at  'uz  all  he 
cud  do  fer  paupers." 

"  Why  didn't  yeh  come  t'  somebody  an'  tell 
'em  somepin  ? "  Lilt  asked  a  little  sharply. 
"  We  haint  all  Hawkinses,  by  a  long  chalk." 

"  What's  th'  use.  Better  die  like  we're  goin' 
t'." 

"  What  d'ye  want  to  die  for?  " 

"What'dlwanttolivefer?" 

"  While  there's  life  there's  hope,  yeh  know." 

"  Not  fer  me.  There  haint  nahthin  fer  me, 
'cept  trouble.  God  knows  there's  'miff  o' 
that." 

There  came  a  sob  in  the  man's  voice.  He 
looked  up.  His  black  bearded  face  had  a  look 
of  dogged  hopelessness  on  it.  His  eyes  were 
heavy  and  dull. 

"  What  d'yeh  talk  hope  t'  me  fer?  "  he  con 
tinued  sullenly.  "  Have  I  got  anything  t'  hope 
fer?  See  how  I've  worked.  There  was  th' 
grasshoppers  three  years  ago,  then  come  th' 
129 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

dry  spell,  then  las'  year  everything  failed. 
'Tween  it  all  I  cudn''t  meet  th'  mortgage.  I 
felt  pretty  blue,  but  I  didn't  think  it  wuz  s'  bad. 
I  thought  ef  I  had  a  big  crop  this  year  I  cud 
pay  up  an'  save  m'self.  We  worked  like  tigers, 
me  an'  th'  woman.  Lize  killed  herself  workin' 
s'  hard.  It  made  me  sick  seein'  her  playin'  out 
so,  but  she  would  stick  to  it,  an'  was  countin' 
on  how  we  cud  both  rest  like  next  year.  Jes' 
look  at  'er  now.  She'll  have  a  good  rest.  Our 
work  counted  though.  Crop  'uz  a  comin'  in 
good  shape.  I  never  see  wheat  n'  corn  grow 
so.  We  were  feelin'  mighty  peart  like  an*  had 
tuk  up  heart  wonderfully,  when  here,  jes'  'uz  I 
begin  cuttin',  Hawkins  gets  th'  farm  in  his 
own  name,  comes  in,  claims  all  th'  crops,  an' 
turns  th'  woman  an'  me  out  in  th'  road  t'  die, 
er  go  t'  th'  pore  house.  We  won't  go  there,  so 
we'll  die.  Th'  Simpkinses  allus  wuz  pore,  but 
none  of  'em  'uz  ever  paupers." 

Newton  had  been  a  silent  onlooker  up  to  this 
time.  Then  he  broke  out.  His  voice  was  low 
and  hard. 

130 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Why  didn't  you  kill  Hawkins?"  he  asked 
slowly. 

"What's  th'  use?" 

Simpkins  was  too  far  sunk  in  hopelessness 
even  to  be  vindictive. 

"  Who's  in  th'  house?  "  Lilt  asked  suddenly. 

"  Hi  Simms." 

"  Hawkins  an'  him  makes  a  good  team. 
Won't  he  let  yeh  stay  there  'til  mornin'  ?  " 

"  We  ain't  askin'  no  favours." 

"  Stay  here,  Newt,"  said  Lilt,  "  While  I  go 
up  t'  th'  house  an'  see  Simms.  Guess  he'll  be 
willin'  t'  take  'em  in  over  night,  enyhow." 

Simpkins  put  his  head  down  into  his  hands 
again. 

"  Yeh  needn't  do  it,"  he  said.  "  None  of  us 
11  ever  set  foot  on  th'  place  agen.  We're  beat 
out  an'  gin  out." 

"  Somepin's  got  t'  be  done,"  Lilt  exclaimed. 

"  Yeh  can't  do  nahthin'.  Yeh'd  better  drive 
on.  Coin'  t'  th'  dance  down  t'  Thompson's  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Ab   Hawkins   '11   prob'ly  be   down   there 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

shakin'  his  laigs  jes'  'z  though  he  hadn't  turned 
nobody  out  here  t'  die/' 

"Was  it  Abner  who  turned  you  out?" 
Newton  asked. 

"  He  an'  thj  ole  man  come  t'gether." 

"  I  was  going  to  give  him  a  thrashing  the 
other  day,"  Newton  exclaimed  hotly.  "  I  wish 
now  I  had  done  it." 

Simpkins  did  not  repfly.  The  woman 
coughed  again  and  turned  wearily  towards 
them. 

"  Yeh  might  'uz  well  drive  on,"  she  said 
feebly.  "  'Tain't  no  use  worryin'  none  'bout 
us.  I'll  be  gone  I  guess  'fore  mornin'.  Th' 
baby  an'  I  can't  las'  long  in  this  fowg.  Seems 
like  I  cud  feel  it  way  int'  my  bones.  We're 
much  obleeged  t'  yeh  but  yeh  can't  help  us 
none." 

"What  had  we  best  do,  Newt?"  Lilt 
asked. 

"  Take  them  back  to  Ridgeby's,  of  course," 

Newton  answered  briskly.     "  I  don't  intend  to 

leave  this  woman  here  to  die,  which  she  will 

do  very  shortly  if  she  is  not  taken  care  of  at 

132 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

once.  Ridgeby  and  his  wife  will  be  glad  to  take 
them  in." 

"That's  right,"  Lilt  returned  heartily. 
"  Aunt  Em'ly  'd  have  a  fit  ef  she  knowed  they 
'uz  out  here.  She  allus  did  like  Mis'  Simpkins, 
an'  I've  hearn  her  say  th'  baby  'uz  th'  prettiest 
young  'un  in  th'  county.  What  say,  Simp- 
kins?" 

"  We  won't  go." 

"  Won't  go?    Why  not?  "  Lilt  exclaimed. 

"  Hain't  Ridgeby's  girl  goin'  t'  marry  Ab 
Hawkins?  I  don't  want  nahthin'  t'  do  with 
th'  hull  tribe." 

"  Look  here,"  said  Newton  firmly.  "  We  are 
not  going  to  let  your  wife  and  baby  stay  out 
here  to  die  just  because  Sibley  Ridgeby  wants 
to  make  a  fool  of  herself.  There  will  be  a 
hearty  welcome  for  you  up  there  and  you  must 

g°." 

"  We  hain't  askin'  no  favours." 

"  It's  no  favour.  It  is  only  humanity.  I  am 
going  to  carry  your  wife  and  Lilt  will  take  the 
child.  You  may  lead  the  horses.  Now,  come 


133 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Newton  leaned  over  the  bed.  The  child 
wailed  again.  The  woman  waved  a  feeble 
dissent.  Newton  was  gathering-  the  bedclothes 
around  her  preparatory  to  lifting  her  into  his 
arms  when  Simpkins  got  up.  He  pushed  New 
ton  roughly  to  one  side. 

"  Guess  she'd  ruther  ha'  me  kerry  her, 
wouldn't  yeh,  Lize?  " 

"  Yes,  Joel." 

Newton  fell  back.  Simpkins  lifted  the  frail 
form  of  his  wife,  bedclothes  and  all. 

"  Are  yeh  easy,  Lize?  " 

"  Yes,  Joel." 

She  stifled  a  cough. 

"  Oop's  a  daisy ! "  cried  Lilt,  tossing  the 
child  on  his  shoulder.  He  turned  into  the  road 
and  led  the  way  with  the  lantern. 

"  You  had  better  mount  one  of  the  horses 
and  carry  your  wife  that  way,"  Newton  said  to 
Simpkins. 

"  She's  easier  this  way."  His  voice  was  just 
as  sullen  and  hopeless  as  before. 

"  Possibly,"  Newton  returned.  "  But  it  will 
be  harder  on  you." 

134 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Never  min'  me." 

Simpkins  struck  full  into  the  middle  of  the 
road.  The  black  mud  clung  to  his  boots  and 
weighted  him  down.  He  bent  his  head  and 
plodded  stolidly  forward.  Newton  brought  up 
the  rear  with  the  horses. 

It  was  fully  a  mile  back  to  Ridgeby's  up  hill 
and  down  dale.  In  places  the  mud  was  over 
their  ankles.  No  one  spoke.  If  Simpkins's 
arms  ached  he  did  not  let  even  a  sigh  betray  it. 
He  even  stifled  his  pantings.  Now  and  then 
the  woman  coughed.  Only  once  was  there  a 
word. 

"Ain't  I  heavy,  Joel?"  the  woman  asked, 
sighing. 

"  No,  Lize." 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  house  Simpkins 
was  staggering  beneath  his  load.  Newton 
shouted  to  Ridgeby.  The  old  man  came  to  the 
door. 

"  What's  th'  matter?  "  he  asked. 

The  situation  was  explained  to  him.  His 
wife  came  and  peered  over  his  shoulder. 

"Waal!  Waal!  Come  right  in,"  Ridgeby 
135 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

exclaimed,  heartily.  "  Don't  stay  out  there  in  th' 
fowg.  Can't  offer  yeh  much,  Simpkins,  but 
yer  mighty  welcome  t'  what  little  we've  got. 
Consarn  Hawkins  for  th'  meanes'  man  I  ever 
hearn  of.  Take  yer  wife  right  into  th'  front 
room  there.  Better  heat  up  a  little  water,  Em'ly, 
Mis'  Simpkins  might  want  somepin'  hot." 

"  Please  don't  let  us  make  no  trouble,  Mis' 
Ridgeby,"  wheezed  the  sick  woman. 

"No  trouble  'tall,"  bustled  Mrs.  Ridgeby. 
"  Reuben  go  fetch  a  bucket  o'  water.  Better 
bring  in  a  armful  o'  wood  while  yer  at  it,  too. 
I'm  'fraid  it's  a  little  chilly  for  th'  baby.  Aint 
she  a  purty  little  thing?  " 

Simpkins  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  looked 
stolidly  at  the  floor.  He  was  holding  his  hands 
in  a  helpless  fashion. 

Lilt  changed  his  boots. 

"  Well,  Newt,"  he  said,  giving  his  boots  a 
stomp  to  settle  them,  "  Guess  you  'n  me  c'n  go 
an'  have  our  dance  now  can't  we?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  I  feel  much  like  dancing," 
Newton  returned. 

136 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Guess  we'd  better  go.  I  promised  one  o'  th' 
Graham  girls  I'd  be  there  sure  pop,  an'  I  know 
you've  got  three  dances  promised  from  Sibley." 

"  Well,  come  on." 

The  eyes  of  the  woman  followed  them  grate 
fully.  Simpkins  continued  gazing  at  the  floor. 


137 


Chapter   X 


THEY  could  hear  the  fiddles  screeching 
out  on  the  muggy  air  long  before  they 
reached  Thompson's. 

"  Tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee- 
dee,"  sang  Lilt,  humming  the  rhythm  of  the  air. 
"  Money  Musk,  by  Jiminy !  Gee  up,  Dan ! 
Come  on  Newt,  th'  twitches's  a  gettin'  int'  my 
laigs  already.  Tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee- 
dle-dee-dee-dee !  Gee  up/' 

He  pushed  his  horse  into  a  clumsy  trot. 
Newton  caught  something  of  his  spirit  and 
urged  his  own  beast  into  a  faster  pace. 

As  they  drew  nearer  other  sounds  became 
mixed  with  the  music.  Loud  laughter  in  shrill 
treble  and  heavy  bass,  calls,  shrieks,  the  pound 
ing  of  many  feet  on  the  floor.  Then  they  could 
hear,  echoing  above  the  tangled  din,  the  hoarse 
voice  of  the  caller.  They  came  to  Thompson's 
gate.  A  group  of  men  was  standing  before  it. 

"  What's  up,  Lilt  ? "  cried  some  one. 
"  Somepin' s  wrong  when  you're  late  t'  a  dance." 

138 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Where's  Sue  Graham?"  bawled  Charley 
Burrit. 

"  She  went  back  on  Lilt  long  ago,"  laughed 
Hugh  Jenkins.  "  Haint  had  nahthin'  t'  do 
with  him  sence  he  got  his  hair  cut." 

They  all  laughed  loudly.  Lilt  joined  in  with 
them. 

"  Don't  you  fellers  bother  none  'bout  me. 
Yeh've  got  all  yeh  c'n  do  lookin'  after  yer  own 
beaus,"  he  returned  good-naturedly.  "  Ef  yeh 
think  I'm  foot  loose  I  may  be  lookin'  crost  eyed 
at  some  of  'em." 

They  dismounted  and  hitched  their  horses 
with  a  long  line  of  others. 

"  Better  come  cross  th'  road  an'  have  some- 
pin',"  Jake  Anson  invited.  "  Yeh  want  t'  liven 
up  a  little." 

Lilt  declined  with  the  excuse  that  he  was  not 
drinking  that  week. 

A  travelling  vender  of  beer  in  original  pack 
ages  had  set  up  a  stand  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  road.  A  continual  string  of  men  filed  out 
of  the  barn  and  crossed  to  the  improvised 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

bar.  Newton  saw  Abner  Hawkins  with  the 
crowd. 

Lilt  and  Newton  made  their  way  into  the 
barn.  It  was  lighted  by  a  multitude  of  lanterns. 
The  place  was  filled  with  merry  makers.  The 
greater  part  of  the  men  were  in  their  working 
clothes,  just  as  they  had  left  the  fields,  with 
overalls  tucked  in  boots,  and  supported  by 
straps  and  strings.  Here  and  there  stood  a 
more  pretentious  beau,  resplendent  and  uncom 
fortable  in  a  suit  of  "  boughten  clothes  "  and  a 
turn  down  collar.  Many  of  the  girls  wore 
calico  dresses.  All  of  them  were  simply  clad, 
with  perhaps  a  gay  ribbon  for  decoration.  But 
strong,  supple  forms,  rosy  cheeks  and  the 
bloom  of  perfect  health  decked  them  to  a  sur 
feit.  In  one  corner  was  a  group  that  held  itself 
aloof  from  the  rest.  They  looked  on  at  the 
merriment  but  seemed  to  think  themselves 
above  mixing  with  it.  They  were  better  clad 
than  the  great  crowd,  but  they  did  not  look  so 
natural.  They  were  specimens  of  the  pretend 
ing  aristocracy. 

A  platform  had  been  fitted  up  at  the  far  end 
140 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

of  the  barn  by  putting  planks  across  empty 
pork  barrels.  Upon  this  the  orchestra  was  sta 
tioned.  It  consisted  of  two  riddles  and  a  flute. 
The  leading  fiddle  was  played  or  rather  worked 
by  a  stoop-shouldered,  scraggy-haired  old  man, 
who  bobbed  his  head  backward  and  forward 
as  he  thrummed  the  strings.  His  son,  a  gosling 
of  twenty,  played  the  other.  The  flute  was  at 
the  mercy  of  a  great  broad-shouldered  Swede 
who  played  neither  by  note,  nor  by  ear,  but  by 
main  strength.  The  music  they  discoursed  was 
not  classical.  It  may  at  times  have  been  dis 
cordant.  But  there  was  a  hearty  dash  to  it,  a 
swinging  rhythm,  that  set  every  foot  into  un 
conscious  motion.  As  Lilt  said,  "  It  put  the 
twitches  into  his  laigs." 

Lilt  and  Newton  were  at  once  surrounded 
by  a  jostling  crowd.  Lilt  proved  to  be  a  gen 
eral  favourite,  especially  with  the  girls.  He 
did  have  rather  a  gallant  way  about  him.  His 
rough  clothes  sat  upon  him  with  a  natural 
grace.  His  eyes  lighted  up.  His  face  was 
aglow. 

Newton  was  introduced  to  everyone  within 
141 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

hearing.    Lilt  raised  his  voice  until  it  echoed  all 
over  the  barn. 

"  This  is  Newt  Mills,  th'  bes'  wras'ler  I  ever 
run  against.  Shake  hands  with  him." 

Everyone  came  forward,  the  girls  rather 
timidly,  the  men  with  a  question  as  to  his 
wrestling  abilities.  Inside  of  five  minutes  New 
ton  had  engaged  to  wrestle  half  of  the  men  in 
the  crowd  at  his  earliest  convenience.  The 
fiddles  set  up  a  warning  cry.  The  hoarse  voice 
of  the  caller  croaked  above  the  din. 

"  All  set  fer  a  quadrille." 

There  was  a  general  scramble  for  partners. 
Lilt  caught  Sue  Graham  around  the  waist  and 
bore  her  off  amid  a  shout  to  the  centre  of  the 
barn.  Newton  looked  around  for  Sibley.  He 
caught  sight  of  her  at  last  at  the  far  end  of 
the  barn.  She  was  looking  toward  him  and 
smiled  when  their  eyes  met.  Then  he  saw  Ab- 
ner  Hawkins  coming  through  the  door  and 
starting  toward  her.  Newton  darted  through 
the  crowd  and  gained  her  side  a  few  paces  in 
front  of  Abner. 

142 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  May  I  have  this  dance,  Miss  Sibley?  "  he 
asked. 

He  scarcely  waited  for  an  answer,  but  taking 
her  arm  led  her  out  on  the  floor.  Abner  stopped 
and  glared  after  them.  A  scowl  came  over 
his  face.  He  started  to  jump  forward  but 
checked  himself  and  retreated  to  the  wall  where 
he  stood  glowering  at  the  dancers. 

The  sets  were  soon  formed. 

"  Two  more  couple.  Two  more  couple," 
shouted  the  caller.  "  Two  more  couple.  One 
more  couple.  All  set." 

The  fiddles  gave  a  preliminary  flourish,  the 
flute  uttered  a  shrill  shriek  and  the  dance  began. 
Newton  caught  Sibley's  hand  and  held  it.  A 
thrill  ran  over  him  as  he  did  so.  He  pressed 
the  hand  tightly.  He  did  not  dare  look  toward 
her.  If  he  had  done  so  he  would  have  seen  a 
faint  blush  creeping  up  her  throat  and  slowly 
suffusing  her  face. 

"  Tee-dee-dle,  Tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee- 
dee,"  sang  the  fiddles.  "  First  four  forward  and 
back.  Tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee^ 

143 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

dee."  Forward  again.  Ladies  change.  Tee- 
dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee-dee.  Swing 
yer  pardners.  Lively  now  boys.  Tee-dee-dle, 
tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee-dee.  Tee-dee-dle, 
tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle,  tee-dee-dle-dee-dee. 
Grand  right  an'  left.  Hurry  'long  there  now, 
floor's  strong.  Let  out  yer  laigs.  Tee-dee-dle, 
tee-dee-dle " 

The  dance  romped  on.  Everyone  put  as 
much  motion  into  the  steps  as  possible.  Newton 
and  Sibley  danced  more  quietly  than  the  others 
but  they  enjoyed  it  fully  as  much.  The  rude 
music  carried  Newton  out  of  himself.  He  for 
got  that  Sibley  was  to  marry  Abner  Hawkins. 
Sibley  did  think  of  it,  but  she  tried  to  forget  it. 

Anson  Thompson  saw  Abner  leaning  against 
the  wall  scowling  darkly.  He  shouted  with  a 
laugh. 

"Hullo  Ab!  What's  matter?  Mad  'cause 
Another  feller's  got  yer  girl  ?  " 

There  came  a  general  shout, 

"  Yeh  want  t'  look  out  er  that  new  hand  o' 
Ridgeby's  '11  cut  yeh  out." 
144 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  men  roared.  The  girls  giggled.  There 
came  a  pause  in  the  dance.  The  fiddles  were 
still  for  a  moment. 

"  Yeh  don't  want  t'  let  Sib  get  'way  fr'm  yen 
that  easy,"  bawled  Luke  Smith.  Sibley  heard 
it.  Her  face  turned  scarlet. 

"  I  wouldn't  let  a  feller  cut  me  out  that  way," 
jeered  Amy  Thompson. 

Abner  turned  sullenly  away  and  disappeared 
out  the  door.  He  was  followed  by  a  general 
roar.  He  turned  around  with  a  scowl. 

The  dance  started  again.  Newton  stole  a 
look  at  Sibley.  There  was  a  pucker  of  irritation 
in  her  forehead,  and  a  slight  flush  on  her 
cheeks.  He  pressed  her  hand  again.  She  cov 
ered  her  confusion  by  dancing  harder  than  be 
fore.  The  dance  came  to  an  end.  The  fiddles 
died  in  a  screech.  There  was  quiet  for  a  sec 
ond,  and  the  champing  of  the  horses  in  the 
stables  could  be  heard.  Then  the  general  buzz 
arose  again. 

"Shan't  we  go  outside  for  a  moment?" 
Newton  asked  as  he  led  Sibley  toward  the  door. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Don't  you  want  to  get  away  from  this 
noise?" 

"  I  don't  dare  to,"  she  whispered  back. 
"  You  had  better  leave  me." 

Her  voice  was  strained.  Just  then  Abner 
entered  the  door  and  started  toward  them.  His 
face  was  flushed. 

"  I'll  take  Sib.  Go  mind  yer  own  business," 
he  growled,  as  he  came  up.  He  pulled  Sibley 
rudely  by  the  arm. 

Newton  was  about  to  protest  when  Sibley 
turned  away  from  him. 

"  Come  on  Abner,"  she  said  quietly. 

Newton  looked  after  her,  but  she  did  not 
turn  back. 

"  Ab  didn't  get  left  that  time,"  Jake  Anson 
shouted. 

"  Sib's  too  sweet  t'  lose,"  laughed  Tod  Blake. 

"  Ab's  apt  t'  get  what  he  goes  after,"  grinned 
Jim  Simpson,  the  wit.  There  was  a  general 
groan. 

Newton  wondered  how  Sibley  bore  the  rude 
chaff  so  quietly.  Another  dance  was  called. 
146 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Newton  had  Amy  Thompson  for  a  partner. 
She  accepted  his  arm  with  a  simper.  He  went 
through  the  dance  mechanically.  The  girl  was 
very  disappointed  in  him  and  thought  him  a 
very  dull  partner.  He  let  the  next  dance  go  by 
and  from  a  corner  watched  Sibley  and  Abner. 
Once  she  caught  him  looking  at  her.  She 
dropped  her  eyes  at  once  and  looked  away.  At 
the  end  of  the  dance  Abner  left  Sibley  to  visit 
the  bar  again.  Newton  hastened  to  her  side. 

"  You  promised  me  three  dances,  Miss  Sib 
ley.  The  next  is  a  waltz.  May  I  have  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  to  dance  with  you  again/'  she 
said,  looking  toward  the  floor.  "  I  am  afraid 
that  Abner  will  make  trouble  if  I  do.  You  can 
see  how  he  has  been  drinking.  He  was  furious 
because  I  danced  with  you  before." 

"  He  can  make  all  the  trouble  with  me  that 
he  wants  to,"  Newton  exclaimed  warmly. 

"  But  please  consider  my  position,"  she 
pleaded. 

"Don't  you  want  to  dance  with  me?"  he 
asked  earnestly,  sinking  his  voice. 
147 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Y-Yes." 

"  Come  on,  then." 

The  music  started.  Before  Sibley  scarcely 
knew  what  she  was  doing  she  was  whirled 
away.  Newton  forgot  the  awkward  crowd 
swaying  around  him,  forgot  the  rude  scraping 
of  the  fiddles.  He  only  remembered  that  he 
was  holding  Sibley's  hand,  that  his  arm  was 
about  Sibley's  waist  that  his  breath  was  min 
gling  with  hers.  But  he  came  to  himself  in  a 
moment.  There  came  a  choking  sensation  in 
his  throat.  Sibley  was  to  marry  Abner 
Hawkins. 

He  looked  about  him.  The  fiddles  were 
scraping  harder  than  ever,  but  Sibley  and  he 
were  alone  on  the  floor.  One  by  one  the  danc 
ers  had  stopped  to  watch  them.  A  rude  voice 
broke  out. 

"  Where's  Ab  Hawkins  now?  " 

Sibley  gave  a  start  and  looked  around 
quickly. 

"  Why,  we  are  the  only  ones  dancing,"  she 
exclaimed  quickly. 

148 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Newton  led  her  to  a  seat  on  the  improvised 
benches  and  the  dancing  became  general  again. 
Abner  came  pushing  his  way  roughly  through 
the  crowd.  His  eyes  were  watery  and  blood 
shot.  Newton  caught  a  look  from  Sibley. 

"  Will  you  kindly  take  care  of  Miss 
Ridgeby,"  he  asked  quietly  of  Abner  as  he 
came  up.  "  I  think  I  have  robbed  you  of  part 
of  a  dance."  Abner  glared  after  him  as  he 
turned  away. 

Newton  did  not  go  near  Sibley  again  during 
the  evening.  Now  and  then  he  would  catch 
her  eyes  but  she  would  always  look  away  as 
though  she  did  not  see  him.  He  pushed  him 
self  into  the  midst  of  the  frolic.  He  danced 
with  Amy  Thompson  again.  She  changed  her 
mind  about  his  being  a  dull  partner.  Later  in 
the  evening  Lilt  came  up  to  him  and  drew  him 
aside  mysteriously. 

"  Say  Newt,"  he  whispered,  "  Th'  folkes  'er 
dead  set  on  seein'  yeh  wras'le  with  Ab  Haw 
kins.  In  this  section  people  'ud  ruther  see  a 
wras'ling  match  thun  dance  eny  night.  They've 
149 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

hearn  o'  yer  scrape  with  Hi  Simms  an'  I  haint 
been  'shamed  t'  tell  em  'bout  how  yeh  throwed 
me,  an'  they  want  t'  see  it.  Ab's  been  doin'  a 
heap  o'  talkin'  round  'bout  how  he  knows  he 
cud  throw  yeh  with  one  han',  an'  I  want  yeh 
t'  take  'im  down." 

"  If  it  will  contribute  to  the  amusement  of  the 
crowd  to  see  me  wrestle  I  have  no  particular 
objections  to  doing  it,"  Newton  replied.  "  I 
would  rather  have  it  with  any  one  than  Abner 
Hawkins,  however." 

"  Don't  think  you  will  have  eny  trouble 
throwin'  him.  I  c'n  do  it  easy  'nuff  m'self." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  Newton  returned.  "  But  I  am 
afraid  that  trouble  of  some  kind  may  grow  out 
of  it." 

"  I  shuldn't  be  s'prised  m'self  ef  there  'uz 
somepin  of  a  rumpus,"  Lilt  replied  with  a  grin. 
"  But  I  didn't  think  'at  yeh'd  mind  that  much. 
Ab's  been  drinkin',  pret'  hard,  an'  so  've  some 
of  his  cronies.  Ef  they  see  'im  getting  th' 
worst  of  it  they  may  pitch  in.  I'll  stan'  behind 
yeh  an'  see  fair  play.  I  guess  we  c'n  hold  our 


own." 


150 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  sank  his  voice  to  an  eager  whisper. 

"  Th'  fact  is,  Newt,  I'm  jes'  akin'  fer  a  tussle 
o'  some  kin'.  Ef  I  don't  have  a  chance  t'  blow 
off  onct  in  'bout  so  often  I'd  bust,  an'  I'm  jes' 
'bout  bustin'  right  now." 

Newton  looked  serious. 

"  I  don't  want  to  get  into  a  rough  and  tumble 
fight  here,"  he  said.  Then  he  rubbed  his  chin 
thoughtfully.  "  I  do  owe  Abner  Hawkins  a 
thrashing  though.  Make  any  arrangements 
you  want  to." 

Lilt  turned  away.  A  moment  later  the  caller 
announced  that  the  next  dance  would  be 
omitted  and  that  Newton  Mills,  Hiram 
Ridgeby's  new  hand,  would  "  wras'le  "  three 
throws  with  Abner  Hawkins,  "  nex'  t'  Lilt 
Murdock  th'  bes'  wras'ler  in  Hawkins  county." 

A  loud  clapping  of  hands  followed  the  an 
nouncement  and  there  was  a  general  move  to 
get  away  from  the  centre  of  the  floor.  Newton 
was  looking  toward  Sibley.  He  saw  a  shiver 
run  over  her  and  an  expression  of  pain  sweep 
over  her  face.  He  was  sorry  then  that  he  had 
promised  to  wrestle  with  Abner. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  crowd  parted  in  front  of  him.  He  ad 
vanced  to  the  centre  of  the  barn.  Abner  came 
up  with  a  swagger.  A  circle  was  quickly  formed 
around  them.  Both  threw  off  their  coats  and 
made  ready  for  the  struggle.  They  stood  facing 
each  other.  Abner's  face  was  sullen  and  dark 
ened  with  a  frown.  Newton  was  smiling,  but 
it  was  a  hard  smile.  The  sympathy  of  the  men 
seemed  to  be  with  Abner,  that  of  the  girls  was 
inclined  toward  Newton. 

"  All's  fair/'  exclaimed  Abner  with  a  scowl. 

"  All's  fair,"  assented  Newton  quietly. 

"  Get  after  him  Ab,"  shouted  Jake  Anson. 
"  Get  after  him,"  repeated  the  men. 

Abner  made  a  sudden  dive  for  Newton's  feet, 
expecting  to  catch  him  around  the  ankles.  He 
found  himself  lying  flat  on  his  face  with  no 
opponent  before  him.  As  he  plunged  down 
Newton  had  lightly  leaped  completely  over 
him.  He  stood  smiling  quietly  while  Abner 
got  up. 

"  Got  left  that  time,  didn't  yeh  Ab/'  laughed 
Lilt.  "Tryitagen." 

Abner  did  try  it  again.  After  circling  cau- 
152 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

tiously  about  his  opponent  for  a  moment  and 
making  several  feints  he  suddenly  shot  down 
towards  his  feet  again.  That  time  he  caught 
them.  He  gave  them  a  pull.  Newton  was 
falling.  The  men  cheered;  a  startled  cry  of 
disappointment  came  from  the  girls.  But 
Newton  did  not  fall.  He  alighted  on  his  hands. 
He  seemed  able  to  handle  himself  as  well  upon 
them  as  upon  his  feet.  Abner  tried  to  twist 
him  around,  tried  to  throw  him  over.  He 
strained  and  tugged  and  panted.  The  drop  of  a 
pin  could  have  been  heard.  Abner  summoned 
up  his  strength  for  a  grand  effort.  Then  some 
way  he  lost  his  balance  and  fell  to  the  floor 
full  on  his  back.  Newton  had  suddenly  sup 
ported  himself  on  his  head  and  catching  Abner 
by  the  knees  had  given  him  a  twist  that  sent 
him  down.  It  was  done  so  neatly  that  there 
was  a  general  cheer. 

Abner  sprang  to  his  feet  and  made  a  furious 
dash  forward.  Newton  was  not  so  easy  with 
him  that  time.  A  sudden  fury  entered  his 
heart.  He  caught  Abner  round  the  waist  and 
raised  him  above  his  head,  thought  an  instant 
153 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

of  that  woman  he  had  found  dying  in  a  fence 
corner,  and  hurled  him  with  all  his  might  to  the 
floor.  The  barn  shook.  The  girls  gave  vent  to 
a  startled  "Oh." 

Abner  got  up  slowly.  He  was  dazed.  He 
recovered  himself  in  a  moment.  Blood  began  to 
flow  from  his  nose.  A  look  of  hate  came  over 
his  face.  He  gave  a  snarl. 

"  Come  on,  fellows !  "  he  shouted. 

Several  roughs  started  out  from  the  crowd. 
Newton  braced  himself.  A  feeling  of  infinite 
strength  came  over  him,  coupled  with  a  desire 
to  vent  it.  There  was  a  general  scramble  on 
the  part  of  the  crowd  to  get  away.  Abner  with 
an  oath  sprang  toward  Newton.  Mills  gathered 
himself  together  to  receive  him,  when  a  face, 
scared  and  white  came  before  him.  It  was 
Sibley's. 

"  Run ! "  she  cried.  The  tone  was  one  of 
agonised  entreaty. 

Abner  caught  her  rudely  by  the  arm  and 
pulled  her  to  one  side.  Newton  was  on  him  like 
a  cat.  Two  blows  sent  Abner  reeling  to 
154 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  floor,  stunned,  unable  to  rise.  Lilt  sprang 
forward  and  seizing  Sibley  around  the  waist 
bore  her  out  of  danger. 

Those  coming  to  Abner's  assistance  halted 
when  they  saw  the  fate  of  their  leader.  Newton 
did  not  wait,  but  sprang  at  them  before  they 
recovered  themselves.  One  found  company 
with  Abner  on  the  floor,  another  fell  back  dazed 
by  a  blow  in  the  neck.  Then  the  five  remaining 
closed  on  Newton.  He  struck  out  wildly.  Lilt 
leaped  forward,  caught  a  man  with  each 
brawny  hand  and  knocked  their  heads  together. 
Then  he  caught  another.  Newton  had  just 
knocked  the  last  of  his  assailants  down  when 
there  was  a  general  interference.  Then  he 
sank  to  the  floor.  A  great  red  blotch  stained 
his  shirt.  An  open  pocket  knife  with  blood  on 
the  blade  was  lying  by  his  side. 

Sibley  caught  her  breath.  She  almost  cried 
aloud.  She  started  to  push  her  way  toward 
him  when  she  checked  herself  and  turned  her 
white  face  toward  the  door.  She  did  not  look 
back  until  she  was  outside  it. 
155 


Chapter  XI 


IT  was  the  general  opinion  among  the 
neighbours  that  Hi  Simms  thought 
more  of  the  number  of  his  cattle  and 
his  spreading  acres  than  he  did  of  his  wife 
and  children.  Not  that  anyone  ever  ventured 
the  opinion  where  it  was  likely  to  reach  the  ears 
of  Hi  Simms  himself,  for  there  was  something 
about  his  character  to  inspire  a  respect  which 
was  nearer  akin  to  fear.  His  years  of  struggle 
with  the  obstinate  soil  had  not  only  given  his 
physical  frame  a  hardness  as  of  iron,  they  had 
also  given  his  heart  something  of  the  temper 
of  steel.  His  form  was  gnarled  and  twisted 
and  his  face  was  bronzed  by  the  hot  Iowa  suns. 
His  deep-set  eyes  shaded  by  shaggy  overhang 
ing  eyebrows  glittered  cold  as  ice.  His  hard, 
square  jaw  added  to  the  harshness  of  his  fea 
tures. 

Hi  Simms  was  the  embodiment  of  toil;  of 
treadmill  toil  that  knows  not  the  meaning  of 

156 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

rest;  of  toil  that  puts  pleasures  among  the  un 
known;  of  toil  that  murders  love.  He  was 
born  in  toil,  bred  in  toil  and  toil  was  all  he 
knew.  He  spared  not  himself.  He  spared  no 
one  around  him. 

Hi  Simms  had  a  wife.  It  might  be  thought 
from  this  that  the  light  of  romance  had  once 
entered  his  life  but  to  Hi  Simms  marriage  was 
simply  an  economical  arrangement.  When  by 
unceasing  industry  he  had  attained  a  farm  and 
a  mortgage  he  found  a  housekeeper  a  necessity. 
A  servant  would  demand  wages.  A  wife  would 
be  cheaper.  So  he  married  Jane  Smalley. 
Jane  married  Hi  because  she  was  the  eldest  of 
the  children  and  it  was  time  that  she  had  a 
house  of  her  own.  Hi  Simms  was  looked  upon 
as  a  man  with  prospects  who  could  take  care 
of  a  woman,  so  Jane's  parents  favoured  the 
match.  Jane  had  always  been  taught  to  do  as 
she  was  told.  So  she  became  Hi  Simms's  wife. 

Hi  Simms's  wife  was  at  the  pump  wiping 
the  pails  preparatory  to  milking.    A  little  tow- 
headed  youngster  was  hanging  to  her  skirts. 
157 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  was  crying.  Two  more  were  quarrelling  in 
the  chip  pile,  and  still  another — a  thin,  scrawny, 
mite  of  a  girl, — could  be  seen  through  the  open 
doorway  with  a  babe  in  her  arms.  The  mother 
seemed  oblivious  to  the  turmoil  about  her  and 
was  keeping  her  eyes  bent  steadily  upon  the 
milk  pails. 

She  was  a  small  woman  and  stoop  shoul 
dered.  Her  thin,  bony  hands  were  red  and 
misshapen.  Her  bent  body  was  clad  in  a  faded 
calico  gown.  It  had  one  redeeming  feature.  It 
was  clean.  Her  thin,  iron-gray  hair  was  twisted 
into  a  little  hard  ball  on  the  back  of  her  head. 
Her  face  was  the  face  of  hopelessness.  The 
features  were  plain.  A  smile  might  have  light 
ened  them  perhaps,  but  it  was  years  since  she 
had  smiled.  Her  feet  were  bare. 

Any  one  who  knew  Jane  Simms  would  have 
seen  at  once  that  she  was  in  an  unusual  mood. 
Ordinarily  she  would  have  worked  more  rap 
idly  and  would  have  scolded  the  children.  She 
would  also  have  been  talking  to  herself.  It 
had  been  so  Jong  since  she  had  much  of  anyone 

158 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

to  talk  to  that  she  had  fallen  into  this  habit. 
But  this  evening  she  was  neither  talking  to  her 
self,  nor  was  she  scolding  the  children,  nor  was 
she  working  with  her  usual  hopeless  energy. 

Suddenly  the  childish  turmoil  ceased.  The 
tow-headed  youngster  buried  himself  deeper 
into  his  mother's  skirts.  The  quarrelling  chil 
dren  stopped  their  wrangle  and  sat  still  among 
the  chips.  The  girl  in  the  kitchen  strove  to 
quiet  the  babe  she  was  carrying  and  partially 
succeeded.  The  master  of  the  place  was  coming 
out  from  the  barn.  Jane  Simms  was  just 
scouring  the  bottom  of  the  last  pail  as  he  came 
up.  He  was  going  right  on  to  the  water  barrel 
by  the  corner  of  the  house  without  a  word  as 
he  had  done  a  thousand  times  before.  There 
was  a  revolution  between  him  and  that  barrel. 
Jane  Simms  set  the  pail  she  was  wiping  by  the 
side  of  the  pump. 

"  Hi  Simms !  "  she  called. 

The  tone  must  have  startled  him,  but  he  kept 
right  on  toward  the  water  barrel. 

"Hi  Simms!" 

159 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

There  was  an  emphasis  in  the  tone  that  boded 
trouble,  but  he  did  not  look  back.  He  rolled  his 
sleeves  high  up  and  was  just  about  to  plunge 
his  arms  deep  down  into  the  water  when  he  was 
arrested  by  a  voice  so  commanding,  so  shrill 
with  pent  up  anger  bursting  into  sound,  that 
involuntarily  he  obeyed  it. 

"HiSimms!  Stop!!!" 

He  turned  his  head  around.  His  wife  was 
standing  on  the  small  wooden  platform  sur 
rounding  the  pump  with  her  hands  resting  on 
her  hips. 

"  Hi  Simms,  I'm  agoin'  t'  Sister  Marcey's  in 
Illinois." 

"Oh,  yeh  be,  be  yeh?" 

"  Yes  I  be." 

"What  fer?" 

"  I've  staid  an'  slaved  on  this  farm  till  I'm 
beat  out  an'  I  be'nt  agoin'  t'  do  it  no  longer. 
I've  cooked  for  all  yer  men  folks  an'  never  said 
nahthin'.  I've  milked  all  these  cows  an' 
churned  th'  butter  'at  you  sold.  I've  worn 
clothes  a  nigger  wouldn't  wear,  an'  lived  in 
1 60 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

this  shanty  that  haint  fitten  fer  a  beast  t'  live  in, 
an'  what's  worse  'n  th'  barns  yer  cattle's  got.  I 
haint  been  'way  fr'm  th'  place  but  onct  an'  'at 
'uz  when  ma  died  an'  yeh  grumbled  a  hull  lot 
'bout  it  then.  I'm  sick  an'  tired  o'  th'  hull 
thing.  I'm  goin'  away  and  yeh  can't  stop  me." 

Simms  turned  squarely  around  and  leaned 
against  the  barrel.  His  face  darkened  into  a 
frown. 

"Coin'  be  yeh.  Well  go.  There  haint 
nahthin'  hindren." 

"  Yes,  Hi  Simms  I'm  agoin'.  My  min's 
made  up.  Yeh  ken  get  'long  th'  bes'  way  yeh 
can  till  yeh  get  ready  t'  hire  a  nigger." 

"How 'bout  th' brats?" 

"  Leave  'em ;  they're  yourn." 

The  tow-headed  youngster  started  to 
whimper. 

"  Shet  up !  "  snarled  Simms. 

The  mother  said  nothing. 

"  How'er  yeh  goin',"  he  asked  after  a  pause. 

"  Walk,  ef  there  haint  no  other  way." 

"  Huh !  Better  run,  yeh'll  get  there  quicker," 
161 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Yes,  Hi  Simms,  I'll  walk  an'  run  too,  an' 
I'll  stop  t'  every  house  'tween  here  an'  Mar- 
cey's  an'  tell  'em  I'm  Hi  Simms's  wife  an'  a 
beggar." 

"  Tell  'em  too,  yeh  run  'way  fr'm  yer  brats." 

"  Yes,  I'll  tell  'em  I  run  'way  fr'm  th'  brats, 
'cause  their  father  'uz  such  a  hog  they  want 
nahthin'  but  pigs  an'  I'd  got  tired  livin'  in  th' 
pen." 

Simms  was  dumbfounded.  He  had  come  to 
look  upon  his  wife  as  a  machine.  A  thing  to 
wash  and  cook  and  milk ;  an  automaton  wound 
up  and  warranted  to  run  for  life.  He  did  not 
know  how  to  take  this  sudden  vagary.  It  filled 
him  with  the  same  harshness  the  stubbornness 
of  one  of  his  oxen  would  have  done,  except  that 
he  would  have  beaten  his  ox.  He  was  a  little 
more  humane  towards  his  wife.  He  looked  at 
her  for  a  moment.  Then  he  asked : 

"  When  'er  yeh  goin'?" 

"  T'morrer." 

"  All  right.     I'm  sat'sfied." 

Simms  turned  back  to  the  water  barrel  as 
though  he  considered  the  question  settled.  His 
162 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wife  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  as  though 
watching  for  some  signs  of  softening.  She 
saw  none.  Indeed  she  did  not  expect  any.  She 
gritted  her  teeth,  then  walked  slowly  towards 
the  house,  leaving  the  shining  pails  resting  by 
the  side  of  the  pump.  She  did  not  enter  the 
door  but  continued  out  past  the  rickety  gate  and 
seated  herself  by  the  side  of  the  road. 

After  Simms  had  wiped  his  face  and  arms 
on  the  harsh  towel  that  hung  on  a  nail  by  the 
kitchen  door  he  entered  the  house.  The  stove 
was  cold.  There  were  no  preparations  being 
made  for  supper.  The  scrawny  girl  was  still 
walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  the  babe 
in  her  arms.  The  other  children  were  huddled 
around  the  door.  There  was  a  scared  expression 
on  their  faces. 

Simms  took  off  his  plow  boots,  heavy  with 
the  mud  that  still  clung  to  them,  and  stood 
them  behind  the  stove.  He  put  his  bare  feet 
upon  a  chair  and  lighting  his  pipe  looked  out 
the  window  to  where  his  wife  was  sitting  by  the 
side  of  the  road.  Her  perverseness  angered 
him. 

163 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  What's  got  hit'  yer  ma?  "  he  asked  of  the 
girl. 

"  Dunno,"  she  answered,  in  a  frightened 
voice. 

"  Go  an'  tell  her  I  want  my  supper,  an*  I 
want  it  durned  quick." 

The  girl  walked  sullenly  out  the  door  and 
going  carefully  down  the  rough  path  that  the 
sleeping  babe  might  not  be  wakened  she  de 
livered  the  message  in  all  its  coarse  harshness 
to  her  mother. 

Jane  Simms  did  not  turn  towards  her,  but 
bent  her  eyes  away  to  the  west  where  the 
setting  sun  was  lighting  up  a  low  hanging  bank 
of  clouds  to  a  deep  crimson. 

"  Yeh  tell  Hi  Simms  'at  what  he  gets  t'  eat 
in  that  house  he  cooks  hisself,"  she  answered 
after  a  moment.  "  I  haint  his  nigger  no  longer." 

The  girl  stared  at  her  and  carried  the  mes 
sage  to  her  father. 

His  face  darkened  deeper  when  he  heard  it. 

"  Go  back  an'  tell  her  I  don't  want  her  clut- 
terin'  up  th'  front  yard  an'  th'  quicker  she  gets 
out  o'  sight  th'  better.  An'  tell  her  too  there 
164 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

haint  no  need  o'  her  comin'  whimperin'  round, 
nuther.  She's  made  her  bed  an'  she  c'n  lay  in 
it." 

His  voice  was  dry  and  hard.  Every  word 
seemed  an  oath. 

Again  the  girl  made  her  way  back  to  her 
mother  and  delivered  the  message  nearly  word 
for  word. 

Silently  Jane  Simms  arose  and  crossing  the 
road  sat  down  on  the  other  side. 

"  Give  me  th'  brat,"  she  said  holding  out 
her  arms.  "  The'  rest  o'  yeh'll  have  t'  get  long 
th'  best  yeh  ken.  I  haint  yer  ma  no  longer." 

The  girl  handed  the  babe  to  her  mother.  It 
was  asleep  and  the  woman  laid  it  on  the  ground 
beside  her. 

"  What's  th'  matter,  maw  ?  "  the  girl  asked. 
"  What's  got  int'  yeh  an'  paw  ?  Haint  yeh 
goin'  t'  live  t'  our  house  no  more  ?  " 

Jane  Simms  shook  her  head. 

"  Go  back  to  yeh  pa.     I'm  goin'  away." 

The  girl  turned  and  had  crossed  the  road 
again  when  her  mother  called  her  back. 

"  I  want  t'  kiss  yeh,  Viry,"  she  said,  and 

165 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

she  pulled  the  girl  down  and  kissed  the  pinched 
cheeks.  It  was  almost  the  first  time  she  had 
kissed  her  since  she  was  a  baby. 

"  I  haint  been  a  very  good  ma  t'  yeh,  Viry," 
she  said.  There  was  a  quaver  in  her  voice.  She 
held  the  thin  hand  of  the  girl  in  her  own. 

"  I  haint  been  a  very  good  ma  t'  yeh,  Viry, 
but  I  done  th'  best  I  could.  I'd  a  liked  t'  sent 
yeh  to  school  like  other  young'uns,  but  yer  pa 
wouldn't  give  me  no  money  t'  buy  yeh  clothes 
an'  yeh  couldn't  go  th'  way  yeh  was.  I — I  dunno 
what'll  become  o'  yeh,  Viry,  an'  th'  rest  o'  th' 
young'uns,  but  I  can't  stand  it  no  longer,  an' 
I'm  goin'  away.  Yeh  won't  see  me  no  more. 

"  Lemme  kiss  yeh  agin,  Viry.  There.  An' 
onct  fer  th'  twins,  an'  onct  fer  Tommy.  Now 
go  back  t'  yer  pa,  an  be, — be  a  good  girl  Viry." 

She  turned  quickly  and  busied  herself  with 
the  babe  which  had  begun  to  stir  restlessly. 
She  was  winking  her  eyes  as  though  there  were 
tears  in  them. 

The  girl  went  back  to  her  father.  Her 
mother's  display  of  affection  was  something 
166 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

new  to  her.  She  could  not  remember  of  having 
ever  been  kissed  before.  She  would  have  liked 
to  stay  with  her  mother  but  she  did  not  dare. 

"  Oh,  paw,"  said  the  girl  as  she  reentered 
the  house,  "  What's  th'  matter  with  maw,  she 
kissed  me?  " 

"Kissed  yeh,  did  she.  Huh!  Where's  the 
brat?" 

"Maw  tuk  it." 

"Huh!" 

For  awhile  Simms  smoked  in  silence,  then 
he  arose  and  knocking  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe 
went  into  the  kitchen.  He  found  the  shelves 
empty.  After  awhile  he  found  some  beef  in 
brine  in  the  cellar  and  building  a  fire  in  the 
stove  he  cooked  some  of  it.  It  was  salt  and 
burned  and  he  could  not  eat  it.  Then  the  chil 
dren  came  in.  They  were  hungry  and  wanted 
their  supper.  When  they  found  none  they  began 
to  cry.  Simms  pointed  to  the  skillet  of  beef  and 
told  them  to  eat  that  or  go  hungry.  Then  re 
membering  that  the  cows  had  not  been  milked 
he  put  on  his  boots  and  taking  the  pails  from 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  side  of  the  pump  went  into  the  barnyard.  It 
was  hard  work  milking  after  his  long  hours  of 
toil  in  the  fields  and  he  was  a  long  time  at  it. 

The  house  was  dark  when  he  went  back  to  it. 
It  seemed  strange  not  to  see  a  light  in  the 
kitchen  window.  He  set  the  pails  down  by  the 
side  of  the  door  and  went  in.  He  lighted  a 
lamp  and  looked  about  him.  The  children 
had  cried  themselves  to  sleep.  The  little  tow- 
headed  youngster  had  curled  himself  up  in  a 
chair.  His  mouth  was  smeared  round  with 
grease  and  his  dirty  face  was  stained  with 
tears.  The  twins  had  forgotten  their  quarrels 
and  were  asleep  on  the  floor  in  each  other's 
arms.  He  had  nearly  stumbled  over  them  as 
he  came  in.  The  older  girl  was  riot  to  be  seen. 
She  was  old  enough  to  go  to  bed  by  herself. 

Simms  sat  dowrn  in  a  chair  and  began  to 
smoke.  The  room  seemed  very  dreary.  He 
turned  the  lamp  up  a  little  higher,  but  it  smoked 
and  he  had  to  turn  it  down  again.  His  pipe 
would  not  draw  well.  The  cat  behind  the  stove 
looked  discontented.  He  pulled  harder  at  his 
1 68 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

pipe  and  puffed  it  up  to  a  glow.  He  glanced 
at  the  twins.  They  looked  very  dirty.  He 
noticed  for  the  first  time  that  their  clothes 
were  made  from  flour  sacks.  He  wondered 
why  his  wife  had  not  gotten  them  better  clothes. 
He  was  hungry,  then  he  remembered  that  the 
children  were  probably  hungry,  too.  He  was  a 
little  bit  sorry  for  them  and  cursed  his  wife's 
stubbornness. 

He  took  up  his  weekly  paper  and  tried  to 
read,  but  the  letters  looked  all  upside  down. 
The  room  seemed  lonely.  Something  was  miss 
ing  from  it.  The  little  hard  bottomed  rocker 
looked  strange.  It  was  there  that  his  wife  al 
ways  sat.  He  almost  wondered  if  it  seemed 
lonely  in  the  room  because  she  was  not  there. 
He  never  talked  to  her  but  she  was  always 
with  him  during  the  short  evenings.  He  could 
look  at  her  if  he  wanted  to. 

"  What  makes  th'  woman  s*  stubborn,"  he 
mused. 

The  children  slept  on.  He  thought  they 
might  be  cold  and  getting  a  shawl  he  spread  it 
169 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

over  them.  He  took  off  his  coat  and  threw  it 
over  the  child  in  the  chair.  He  had  never 
thought  of  the  children  before.  He  wondered 
what  he  was  going  to  do  with  them  now  that 
she  was  gone.  He  would  have  to  hire  a  wo 
man  to  come  in  and  take  care  of  them  and  do 
the  cooking.  He  tried  to  think  how  it  would 
seem  to  have  some  one  else  besides  his  wife 
sitting  in  the  little  rocker. 

His  pipe  went  out.  As  he  got  up  to  fill  it 
he  glanced  out  the  window  where  by  the  dim 
moonlight  he  could  see  his  wife  sitting  by  the 
side  of  the  road.  The  sight  angered  him. 

"  Damn  the  woman,"  he  muttered. 

When  he  had  lighted  his  pipe  again  he  sat 
down  and  putting  his  feet  upon  a  chair  went  on 
smoking. 

The  clock  struck  ten.  Its  solemn  voice 
echoed  in  the  room.  It  seemed  to  be  calling 
someone.  The  tow-headed  youngster  stirred 
in  his  sleep  but  was  still  again  in  a  moment. 

Simms  smoked  more  and  more  slowly.  He 
found  his  thoughts  going  back  to  his  wedding 
170 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

day.  He  had  never  thought  of  it  since.  He  had 
never  felt  the  sweet  pangs  of  love  but  he  knew 
that  he  had  liked  Jane  Smalley  better  than  any 
of  the  other  girls  of  the  neighbourhood.  There 
was  no  nonsense  about  her.  He  had  felt  a  little 
bit  proud  of  her  on  their  wedding  day.  She 
had  looked  almost  pretty  in  her  simple  cambric 
gown.  She  was  much  different  now.  He  won 
dered  what  made  her  so  thin  and  bent. 

He  was  getting  a  bit  restless  so  he  arose  and 
began  walking  up  and  down  the  room.  He 
walked  past  the  window  two  or  three  times  and 
then  involuntarily  he  stopped  and  looked  out. 
He  was  impatient  with  himself  for  doing  so  but 
somehow  he  could  not  help  it.  The  moon  had 
risen  higher  and  it  was  quite  light  outside.  He 
could  see  his  wife  very  plainly.  She  was  hold 
ing  the  babe  in  her  arms  and  rocking  monoto 
nously  to  and  fro.  He  wondered  if  it  was  not 
cold  out  there.  He  opened  the  door  a  very  little. 
A  damp  chilling  draft  blew  in.  He  wondered 
why  she  stayed  out  there.  He  decided  that  if 
she  came  in  he  would  forgive  her.  He  stood 
171 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

some  little  time  waiting  for  her  to  come  but  she 
still  sat  there  rocking  to  and  fro.  He  even 
knocked  lightly  on  the  pane,  but  she  did  not 
hear.  He  wished  she  would  come  back. 

The  wish  grew  as  he  looked  out  at  her  thin 
worn  form.  It  seemed  a  part  of  him.  He  could 
almost  feel  the  cold  and  dampness  himself.  He 
wondered  if  she  would  come  back  if  he  asked 
her  to,  but  he  could  not  do  that.  It  was  not  his 
fault  that  she  was  so  foolish.  But  he  decided 
that  he  would  go  out  and  speak  to  her  anyway, 
perhaps  he  had  been  a  little  harsh. 

He  opened  the  door  and  went  out.  He  for 
got  his  boots  and  his  hat.  She  did  not  seem 
to  see  him  as  he  came  up. 

"  Jane,  yeh're  a  fool." 

The  woman  said  nothing,  but  continued 
rocking  the  babe  in  her  arms.  Simms's  voice 
was  as  harsh  as  ever. 

"  Jane  yeh're  a  fool,  an* — durn  it  all,  I'm  a 
fool  too.      Ef  yeh're  s'  set  on  goin'  t'  yer  sister 
Marcey's  I  don't  see  uz  ther's  nahthin'  hindrin'. 
Th'  farm  's  half  yourn." 
172 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

She  looked  up  at  him.  It  may  be  that  the 
strange  thing  glittering  on  her  cheeks  was  a 
tear. 

"  An'  say,"  he  went  on  hastily,  "  th'  corn's 
done  uncommon  well  an'  ef  yeh'll  wait  till  after 
plowin'  p'raps  I'll  go  with  yeh.  An' — well, 
durn  it  all,  we'll  take  th'  brats  too  ef  yeh  want 
t'." 


173 


Chapter   XII 


IT  was  Sunday  at  the  Hawkins  homestead. 
The    softly    blowing   winds    hummed    an 
thems    in    the    corn    fields    and    whispered 
creeds  and  prayers  about  the  wheat  heads.     A 
robin  chirped  a  psalm  from  its  perch  on  the 
wood  pile.    The  pigeons  cooed  matins  from  the 
stable   roof.       A  blue  jay,   pluming  its   wings 
on  a  chicken  coop,  lightly  shrilled  a  litany,  and 
was  answered  by  its  mate  in  the  orchard. 

An  old  man,  bent  and  twisted  with  rheuma 
tism,  came  out  from  the  straw  thatched  stable 
and  turned  toward  the  house.  He  moved  with 
a  shuffle  and  kept  his  eyes  bent  toward  the 
ground.  His  cold,  keen  grey  eyes  were  peering 
here  and  there  as  though  in  hopes  of  finding 
something.  The  sun  was  flaming  over  his  left 
shoulder.  Above  his  head  a  great  mare's  tail 
was  fanned  out  across  the  heavens.  All  about 
him  the  birds  and  bees  and  beasts  were  worship 
ping  Nature's  God.  But  George  Hawkins  cared 
nothing  for  Nature,  and  but  very  little  for  its 
174 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

God.  He  stopped  and  turned  something  with 
his  coarse  boot.  Then  stooping  stiffly  he  picked 
up  a  piece  of  snarled  dirty  string.  His 
weazened  face  lighted  as  though  he  had  come 
upon  a  treasure.  He  stood  still,  balancing  on 
one  foot  until  he  had  unsnarled  it,  then  he 
rolled  it  up  very  carefully  and  shuffled  on 
toward  the  house. 

As  he  came  up  to  the  kitchen  door  he  met 
Abner  coming  out.  He  was  wearing  his  best 
clothes  and  was  carrying  a  harness  over  his 
arm.  The  old  man's  face  drew  down  in  a  frown. 
He  reached  out  and  nervously  clutched  the 
harness. 

"  Yer  a  goin'  t'  spile  them  new  clothes,  Ab 
ner,"  he  exclaimed  querulously.  "  Yeh've  only 
worn  'em  a  year.  Seems  t'  me  yer  gettin' 
mighty  dandyish  wantin'  t'  put  'em  on  all  th' 
time." 

His  voice  was  shrill  and  had  a  quaver  in  it. 
There  was  a  frown  on  Abner's  face  when  he 
came  out  the  door.  It  deepened.  He  spoke 
roughly. 

175 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Aw,  shet  up,  an'  quit  yer  naggin'.  Yeh'll 
drive  me  crazy  with  yer  eternal  snufflin'.  Th' 
clothes  er  mine  an'  I'll  wear  'em  t'  plow  in  ef 
I  feel  like  it." 

He  started  to  push  on.  The  old  man  stopped 
him. 

"  What  yeh  goin'  t'  do  with  'at  harness." 

"  Hitch  up." 

"Where  yeh  goin'?" 

"  Over  t'  th'  Grahams." 

"What  for?" 

Abner  scowled  deeper  yet. 

"  Aw  let  up,"  he  exclaimed  with  an  oath.  "  I 
guess  I'm  over  twenty-one  an'  haint  tied  down 
t'  leadin'  strings  no  longer." 

The  old  man  nervously  twisted  the  string  in 
his  stiff  fingers. 

"  Well,  yeh  c'n  jes'  put  'at  harness  back 
where  yeh  found  it.  Th'  ole  one's  in  th'  stable." 

Abner  bit  his  lips. 

"  I  aint  agoin'  t'  drive  over  there  with  that 
ole  harness.     It's  all  comin'  t'  pieces  an'  looks 
'uz  though  it  belonged  t'  a  lot  o'  paupers." 
176 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"It's  good  'miff  fer  me,"  scolded  the  old 
man.  "  'N  I  guess  it's  good  'nuff  for  you,  least 
wise  yeh'll  have  t'  put  up  with  it.  Yer  gettin' 
t'  be  th'  most  'stravagant  feller  I  ever  see. 
Yeh'd  ha'  me  in  th'  porehouse  ef  I  didn't  watch 
out,  an'  it's  agoin'  t'  be  stopped." 

"  What's  the  use  o'  bein'  so  Damned  stingy, 
Dad,"  Abner  growled,  sulkily.  "Folks  ud 
think  yeh  was  starvin'  t'  death  t'  hear  yeh  talk. 
I'm  gettin'  sick  of  it." 

The  old  man  bristled  up. 

"  Yeh  take  that  harness  back  where  yeh 
foun'  it.  I  guess  I'm  runnin'  this  farm  yet,  an' 
it's  goin'  t'  be  run  econom'cal." 

Abner  turned  back  with  an  oath.  The  old 
man  followed  him  into  the  kitchen  and  very 
carefully  placed  in  a  table  drawer  the  string 
he  had  picked  up. 

His  old  wife  was  sitting  in  a  straight  backed 
chair  by  the  window.  Her  red,  misshapen 
hands  were  folded  in  her  lap.  She  was  gazing 
vacantly  out  the  window  to  where  the  blue  jay 
was  flirting  his  tail  from  the  chicken  coop.  She 
177 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

was  hollow  chested  and  pale,  and  had  the  worn 
hectic  look  of  a  consumptive.  Now  and  then 
she  would  give  utterance  to  a  hacking  cough 
which  she  vainly  attempted  to  stifle.  Then 
she  was  taken  with  a  paroxysm  of  coughing. 
When  it  left  her  she  was  completely  exhausted 
and  she  pressed  her  hands  over  her  sunken 
breast  and  sighed. 

"  Seems  like  my  cough's  gittin'  worse,"  she 
said  feebly  when  she  regained  her  breath. 

Hawkins  did  not  answer  her.  He  was  tak 
ing  off  his  boots  and  putting  on  a  pair  of 
ragged  carpet  slippers. 

"  I  hope  'taint  nahthin  ser'us,"  she  added 
appealingly. 

A  frown  was  her  only  reply.  Hawkins 
rubbed  some  home  grown  tobacco  between  his 
palms  and  pressed  it  into  a  worn  cob  pipe. 
His  wife  summoned  up  more  courage  and 
spoke  pleadingly. 

"  I  b'lieve  ef  yeh'd  git  me  sum  sirrup  nex' 
time  yeh  go  t'  town  it  'ud  help  me  some.  Seems 
like  I  cudn't  stan'  this  cough  much  longer. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

It's  jes'  wearin'  me  all  out.    Some  way  I  can't 
do  my  work  like  I  ust  t'.    I  git  tired  right  off." 

Hawkins  settled  himself  comfortably  in  a 
chair  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  Won't  yeh  git  me  some  sirrup,  Pa?  " 

He  opened  his  eyes  with  a  frown.  His 
teeth  came  together  with  a  snap.  He  spoke 
testily. 

"  Seems  like  yeh're  allus  wantin'  med'cine. 
Ef  I'd  get  yeh  all  th'  truck  yeh  ask  fer  I'd  keep 
m'self  pore.  Here  I  am  tryin'  t'  'con'mize 
all  I  kin  an'  you  want  t'  spen'  all  I  c'n  save 
buyin'  med'cines  'at  don't  do  nobody  no  good. 
I  don't  think  there's  nahthin'  th'  matter  with 
yeh  any  how.  Fur's  I  c'n  see  yeh  look  jes'  's 
well's  yeh  ever  did.  It's  all  in  yeh're  imagina 
tion  an'  I  don't  think  it's  my  duty  t'  humour 
yeh  in  it !  " 

He  shut  his  eyes  again.  His  wife  sighed 
feebly  and  looked  out  at  the  bluejay. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door.    The  old  man 
gave  a  snarl  of  irritation  and  shuffling  forward 
opened  it.    He  found  Hi  Simms  there. 
179 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  want  t'  see  yeh,"  said  Simms  shortly. 
He  turned  and  led  the  way  to  the  wood-pile. 
Hawkins  shambled  after  him. 

"How're  yeh  gettin'  'long,  Hi?"  the  old 
man  asked  as  he  leaned  against  the  pile. 

"  Begin  cuttin'  next  week,  guess.  I  want  t' 
tell  yeh  somepin'." 

"  All  right.  What  d'ye  think  th'  corn  '11 
yield,  fifty  bushels  ?" 

"  Mor'n  that,  guess."  Simms  shifted  about 
uneasily.  "  Miss  Simpkins  an'  th'  brat  died 
las'  night,"  he  said  suddenly. 

"  Huh !  How're  things  looking  'bout  th' 
place?" 

"  All  right.  Th'  brat  died  right  after  th'  ole 
woman  did." 

"  Too  bad.  Wist  yeh'd  begin  cuttin'  soon's 
yeh  can.  I  stand  in  need  o'  some  cash.  Made 
Thompson  a  las'  offer  for  that  medder  o'  his 
an'  guess  he'll  take  me  up." 

"  Seems  like  they  caught  more  cold  out  in 
th'  fowg  that  night,"  Simms  continued  looking 
at  the  ground. 

180 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  How's  th'  wheat  doin'." 

"  Pret'  well.  Simpkins  's  in  a  pret'  bad  way. 
Folks  say  he's  likely  t'  lose  his  mind." 

For  the  first  time  the  old  man  betrayed  an 
interest  in  the  fate  of  the  Simpkinses. 

"  Good  Ian !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  It's  a  good 
thing  I  foreclus.  Ef  he'd  agone  insane  there 
might  a  been  trouble.  Had  t'  been  a  gardeen 
pinted  an'  no  tellin'  how  much  bother.  Might 
a  los'  th'  crop,  too." 

"  Ef  I'd  a  known  they  didn't  have  no  place 
t'  go  that  night  I'd  a  let  'em  stayed  in  th'  house. 
Ther  want  no  hurry  'bout  gettin  out  fer's  we'se 
concerned,"  Simms  said  uneasily. 

"  I  tried  t'  do  th'  best  I  cud  afford  t'  by  em," 
the  old  man  said  virtuously.  "  But  Simpkins 
'uz  so  pig  headed  he  wouldn't  do  nahthin!  I 
offered  t'  let  'im  stay  in  th'  house  fer  a  rea- 
son'ble  rent,  but  he  wouldn't  do  that  neither.  He 
cud  a  gone  t'  th'  county  farm,  but  he  wouldn't 
do  that  neither.  I  did  th'  best  I  cud." 

Simms  backed  up  against  the  wood  pile. 

"  Say,"  he  growled  with  a  frown,  "  I  don't 
181 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

like  this  thing,  Hawkins.  I  haint  no  brute  no 
more.  Th'  neighbours  'er  feelin'  pret'  hard  'bout 
this  thing  an*  say  that  you  didn't  do  jes'  right, 
puttin'  'em  out  way  yeh  did." 

The  old  man  straightened  up.  A  flash  came 
into  his  sunken  eyes. 

"  Th'  neighbours  c'n  go  to  thunder,"  he  ex 
claimed  sharply.  "  I  guess  I  c'n  do  'uz  I  please 
with  my  own.  I  didn't  do  nahthin'  without  th' 
sanction  o'  th'  law.  I  haint  a  askin'  no  favours 
o'  none  o'  th'  neighbours  an'  they  don't  need  t' 
trouble  any  'bout  my  affairs,  an'  ef  yeh  hear 
eny  more  talk  yeh  tell  'em  so  too." 

He  turned  and  shambled  back  toward  the 
house.  Simms  opened  his  mouth  as  though  to 
call  him,  but  he  closed  it  again  and  leaping  the 
fence  walked  away  across  the  fields.  Just  as 
Hawkins  reached  his  door  Lilt  Murdock  came 
around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"  I  want  t'  see  yeh,  Hawkins,"  he  shouted. 

Lilt  spoke  sharply.  There  was  a  gleam  in 
his  eyes  and  an  expression  on  his  face  fairly 
fierce. 

182 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"What  d'yeh  want?"  the  old  man  asked, 
testily. 

"  I  want  yeh  t'  understand  first  of  all,"  Lilt 
exclaimed,  "  That  I  haint  here  from  none  o' 
my  choosin'.  Ridgeby  'uz  bound  'at  I  shud  come 
an'  give  yeh  warnin'  so  I  come.  Ef  I'd  a  had 
my  way  I  wouldn't  a  come  near  yeh,  leastways 
not  till  everything  'uz  fixed." 

The  vehemence  with  which  Lilt  spoke 
startled  the  old  man.  His  eyes  opened. 

"W-why,  w-w-what's  th'  matter?"  he 
asked,  the  quaver  in  his  voice  increasing. 

"  Mis'  Simpkins  an'  th'  baby  died  las'  night." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  faltered  the  old  man.  "  Simms 
'uz  jes'  a  tellin'  me.  Too  bad.  Too  bad. 
Course  I'll  come  t'  th'  funeral.  I  allus  did  like 
Mis'  Simpkins  an  allus  did  what  I  cud  fer'em." 

Lilt  folded  his  arms  and  glared  at  him. 

"Well  you'd  better  not  come  near  t'  th' 
funeral.  Th'  closter  yeh  lay  still  th'  better 
it'll  be  fer  your  old  bones.  Folks  er  gettin' 
pretty  well  worked  up  over  this  thing  an'  there's 
apt  t'  be  trouble." 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Hawkins  began  to  tremble. 

"  Why— Why,  I  haint  done  nahthin'." 

"  Nahthin !  Nahthin,"  cried  Lilt,  reaching 
out  as  though  to  clutch  him.  "  Why  yeh  ole 
wretch  yeh  murdered  'em,  an'  there's  them  in 
this  county'  at  'ud  like  t'  see  yeh  hang  fer  it, 
an'  they're  talkin'  o'  doin'  it,  too." 

The  old  man  turned  pale.  He  felt  his  knees 
growing  weak  under  him.  He  caught  at  the 
door  post  for  support. 

"Why  what  d'yeh  mean?"  he  asked.  His 
voice  was  faint  and  husky. 

"  Why,  didn't  yeh  rob  Simpkins  of  all  he  had 
in  th'  world,"  asked  Lilt.  "  An'  'en  turn  him  an 
his  family  out  in  th'  road  t'  die.  What  d'  I 
mean?  I  mean  jes'  what  I  said,  'at  you  mur 
dered  Mis'  Simpkins  an'  the  baby.  An'  ef  yeh 
don't  go  t'  Hell  fer  it  may  I  never  go  t' 
Heaven." 

The  old  man's  face  became  livid.  He  tottered 
to  the  door  and  sank  down  on  the  step. 

"  I — I    didn't    mean   t'    do   n-nahthin',"    he 
whimpered.    "  I  did  jes'  what  th'  law  'lows." 
184 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Th'  law !  Th'  law !  "  screamed  Lilt.  "  Damn 
th'  law,  when  it  gets  into  th'  hands  o'  skunks 
like  you.  It's  justice  we're  talkin'  'bout.  An' 
ef  I  don't  miss  my  guess  you'll  see  a  little  jus 
tice  done  fore  mornin'." 

"  Why,  I  cud  a  tuk  th'  farm  six  months  ago," 
"said  Hawkins  faintly.  "  But  I  tried  t'  be  easy 
on  'em." 

"Tried  t'  be  easy  on  'em,"  sneered  Lilt. 
"  What  was  yeh  waitin'  fer  but  t'  have  Simp- 
kins  get  th'  crop  all  ready  t'  cut." 

"  I  didn't  mean  it  that  way." 

"  Yes  you  did." 

"  Mis'  Simpkins  'uz  sick  a  long  time'  fore 
that." 

"  Yes  she  killed  herself  workin'  in  th'  fields 
in  hopes  they  cud  save  'nuff  that  way  t'  make 
sure  on  th'  mortgage.  Th'  cold  she  caught  in 
th'  road  that  night  yeh  turned  'em  out  'uz  what 
finished  her  though.  She'd  a  died  that  night 
ef  we  hadn't  taken  'em  in  at  Ridgeby's." 

"  They  cud  agone  t'  th'  pore  house,"  said  the 
old  man  doggedly. 

185 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Pore  house,  huh!" 

"  I  didn't  turn  'em  out,  nohow/'  Hawkins 
continued.  "  They  cud  a  stayed  for  a  reason- 
'ble  rent,  but  I  never  seen  s'  bull  headed  a  man 
'uz  Simpkins.  Ef  I  remember  it  I  said  they 
cud  stay  uz  long  uz  they  wanted  t'.  I  know  I 
told  'em  there  want  no  hurry  'bout  gettin  out." 

"  Simpkins  says  diff'runt." 

"Come  t'  think  of  it  I  remember  tellin'  em 
they  cud  have  th'  house  rent  free  durin'  th' 
winter  an'  cud  have  what  corn  they  wanted  t' 
feed  th'  cow.  I'm  sure  'bout  it  now  'at  I  come 
t'  think  'bout  it.  I'm  sure  I  did." 

The  pallor  began  to  leave  the  old  man's  face 
and  he  brightened  up  considerably. 

"  I  mus'  say  'at  yeh've  got  a  mighty  con 
venient  mem'ry,"  frowned  Lilt.  "  It's  jes'  like 
yer  conscience." 

"  I'm  sure  they  cudn't  blame  me  none," 
Hawkins  exclaimed  with  an  air  of  relief,  as  he 
got  up  from  the  door-step.  "  I'm  sure  I  did  all 
'at  a  Christian  cud  be  expected  t'  do!  I  even 
offered  Simpkins  work,  but  he  'uz  too  shif'les 
t'  take  it.  He  never  did  mount  t'  much." 
186 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Look  here,  you  old  Geezer,"  shouted  Lilt, 
wrathfully  shaking  his  fist  in  the  old  man's 
face.  "  I  allus  thought  yeh  was  the  meanes' 
cuss  in  Hawkins  county,  but  darned  if  yeh 
haint  the  worst  specimen  in  th'  State  o'  loway. 
I've  got  a  good  min'  t'  punch  yeh  a  few  times 
an'  go  home  without  tellin'  yeh  what  I  cum  fer." 

"  Well,  what  d'  yeh  cum  fer?  "  the  old  man 
asked  querulously. 

"  I  cum  up  here  t'  tell  yeh  'at  'uz  soon  'uz 
th'  neighbours  hearn'  'at  Mis'  Simpkins  an'  th' 
baby  'uz  dead  they  got  s'  riled  up  over  it  'at 
they're  talkin'  o'  gettin'  up  a  crowd  an'  comin' 
over  here  an'  givin'  yeh  a  coat  o'  tar  an'  feath 
ers.  Some  of  'em  wants  t'  hang  yeh  an'  be 
done  with  it.  I'm  one  o'  that  kind." 

Hawkins  sank  down  again.  His  face 
blanched.  His  teeth  began  to  chatter. 

"  Ef  they  come  round  here  I'll  have  th'  law 
on  'em,"  he  whimpered.  "  I'll  have  th'  law  on 
'em.  I'm  an  hones'  cit'zen,  an'  hain't  done 
nahthin',  an'  I'll  have  th'  law  on  'em." 

He  spoke  feebly.  His  eyes  were  filled  with 
fright. 

187 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Ridgeby  sent  me  up  here  to  warn  yeh," 
Lilt  continued.  "  Ridgeby  said  himself  yeh 
ought  t'  be  dealt  with,  but  he  allus  was  chicken 
hearted." 

"  Ridgeby  'd  better  not  be  talkin'  that  way 
'bout  me,"  Hawkins  chattered.  "Why,  I've 
done  him  favours." 

''  Yeh  never  done  him  uz  big  a  favour  uz  he's 
doin'  you  right  now,"  Lilt  answered  hotly. 

"  Why,  I've  loaned  him  money  when  he 
needed  it  mighty  bad,"  whined  the  old  man. 

"  Yes,  yeh  loaned  it  t'  him  fer  eight  per  cent, 
intrust,  an'  took  a  mor'gage  on  th'  bes'  farm  in 
th'  state,"  sneered  Lilt.  "  I  s'pose  yeh'll  be 
turnin'  him  out  t'  die  next." 

"  No,  I'll  be  easy  on  him,"  Hawkins  an 
swered,  rubbing  his  eyes.  "  I  feel  kinder  like 
kin  t'  Ridgeby  seein'  Abner's  goin'  t'  marry 
Sibley." 

"  I  wouldn't  let  that  idee  worry  me  none," 
Lilt  said,  as  he  turned  away.  "  I  don't  b'lieve 
yeh'll  ever  have  Sibley  Ridgeby  fer  a  daughter- 
in-law." 

188 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  old  man  watched  Lilt  until  he  disap 
peared  down  the  road.  Then  he  tried  to  get 
upon  his  feet,  but  he  sank  down  again.  His 
fright  had  overcome  him.  He  sat  staring 
vacantly  ahead  of  him.  Lilt  had  said  that  he 
was  a  murderer  and  that  a  mob  was  coming 
to  lynch  him.  He  trembled.  But  he  knew  that 
he  had  done  nothing  wrong.  He  had  done  less 
than  the  law  would  have  allowed.  He  was 
sure  he  had  told  Simpkins  that  he  could  stay  in 
the  house  as  long  as  he  wanted  to.  Yes,  he 
was  sure  he  had.  He  had  intended  to  do  so 
anyway.  They  could  not  blame  him  for  what 
had  happened.  Mis'  Simpkins  and  the  baby 
would  have  died  anyway.  He  had  acted  like  a 
Christian.  Yes,  he  was  sure  he  had  acted  like 
a  Christian. 

With  an  effort  he  got  feebly  upon  his 
feet.  He  was  startled  by  a  piping  voice  at  his 
side. 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died,"  it  called.  "  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes'  like 
little  dogs  an'  died." 

189 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

His  thin  blood  started  into  activity  at  the 
words.  He  felt  it  boiling  in  his  brain. 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died."  Then  a  merry  laugh. 

The  old  man  turned  fiercely.  Crazy  Bet  was 
already  disappearing  down  the  lane.  He  gazed 
wrathfully  after  her. 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an' 
died." 

The  laugh  that  came  after  it  sounded  in  his 
ears  wild  and  shrill,  like  the  ghastly,  ghoulish 
shriekings  of  demons  in  Hell. 

He  tottered  to  the  stable  and  with  trembling 
hands  hitched  up  a  team  and  drove  rapidly 
down  the  road.  That  maniacal  laugh  still  rang 
in  his  ears. 


190 


Chapter  XIII 

NEWTON'S  wound  healed  slowly.  It 
had  proved  to  be  much  more  serious 
than  had  at  first  been  supposed.  The 
heavy  blade  of  the  knife  had  pierced  the  inner 
membrane  of  the  lungs,  narrowly  missing  the 
heart.  The  painful  ride  back  to  Ridgeby's  had 
resulted  in  a  great  loss  of  blood,  and  the  long 
time  that  elapsed  until  the  arrival  of  the  village 
doctor  had  aggravated  the  hurt.  Sibley's  care 
and  her  mother's  simple  dressing  had  warded 
off  the  most  serious  complications.  Sibley's 
mind  had  been  in  a  tumult  on  the  evening  that 
Newton  was  hurt.  When  she  saw  him  fall  her 
first  impulse  had  been  to  rush  to  him.  It  seemed 
that  every  instinct  in  her  being  was  urging  her 
to  his  side.  She  had  almost  obeyed  them.  But 
she  remembered  that  she  was  to  marry  Abner 
Hawkins  and  that  the  increasing  temptation 
might  not  overpower  her  she  had  rushed  from 
the  barn  and  started  on  a  'feverish  walk  for 
home.  She  had  covered  but  a  small  part  of 
191 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

the  distance  when  she  was  overtaken  by  the 
wagon  in  which  Newton  had  been  placed  to 
take  him  home.  Lilt  was  driving  it,  walking 
the  horses  slowly  and  peering  eagerly  ahead 
into  the  darkness  in  the  endeavour  to  avoid  as 
many  of  the  rough  places  as  possible.  She  had 
climbed  into  the  wagon,  and  seating  herself  on 
the  box  floor  had  held  Newton's  head  all  the 
way.  It  had  been  a  wonderful  relief  to  her 
to  find  that  he  was  not  dead.  During  the  long 
drive  and  through  the  tedious  wait  until  the 
doctor  came  she  had  been  in  a  fever  of  sus 
pense.  Would  he  live  ?  The  thought  throbbed 
in  her  brain  until  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  head 
must  split.  Yet  she  wondered  why  she  cared 
so  much.  He  was  only  her  father's  hired  hand, 
and  besides  she  was  going  to  marry  Abner 
Hawkins.  When  the  doctor  said  that  he  would 
live  her  heart  gave  a  bound  and  she  almost 
shouted.  She  stole  away  to  her  room  and 
cried. 

For  over  a  month  now  he  had  lain  white  and 
wan,  unable  to  little  more  than  move  his  hands 
192 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

for  fear  of  starting  a  hemorrhage.  Mrs.  Simp- 
kins  and  the  baby  had  died  and  been  laid 
away  with  simple  rites  in  the  cross  roads  grave 
yard.  Simpkins  himself  had  wandered  away, 
no  one  knew  whither.  The  heat  of  anger 
against  old  George  Hawkins  had  gone  with 
him,  and  the  county  had  settled  down  to 
its  wonted  routine.  Two  of  those  concerned 
in  the  assault  on  Newton  disappeared  right 
after  it  and  the  rest  denied  any  knowledge 
of  the  stabbing.  Law,  in  the  country  districts, 
is  clumsy  at  the  best  and  the  matter  was 
dropped. 

Sibley  devoted  herself  to  Newton.  Her 
mother  relieved  her  of  all  care  in  the  house 
work  and  she  spent  her  entire  time  by  his  bed 
side.  At  first  it  was  an  arduous  task.  As  long 
as  his  life  hung  in  the  balance  she  scarcely  slept. 
The  others  offered  to  relieve  her  but  she  per 
sistently  refused  their  good  offices.  The  crim 
son  faded  from  her  cheeks,  the  blue  of  her  eyes 
became  shaded  by  dark  rings,  she  was  not  so 
plump  as  she  had  been,  but  she  refused  to  resign 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

her  place  to  another.  In  vain  her  mother  wor 
ried  and  Ridgeby  fussed,  Old  Reuben's  cackled 
advice  was  lost,  Lilt's  repeated  requests  to  be 
allowed  to  share  her  watch  were  declined. 

Newton  was  too  weak  to  talk;  besides,  the 
physician  had  forbidden  it.  The  slightest  ex 
ertion  might  tear  the  wound  open  again  and 
start  a  flow  of  blood  that  would  prove  fatal. 
But  he  followed  Sibley  with  his  eyes.  As  long 
as  he  was  awake  he  kept  them  bent  upon  her. 
It  seemed  to  put  nature  into  the  room  to  see  her 
there.  In  her  eyes  he  saw  the  blue  of  the  skies, 
in  her  smile  the  sweet  sunshine,  in  her  voice, 
when  she  now  and  then  hummed  a  song,  he 
heard  the  sighing  of  the  wheat  fields.  He  saw 
all  of  these  in  Sibley  now  as  before  he  had  seen 
Sibley  in  all  of  them.  Once  he  tried  to  speak 
to  her,  but  she  stopped  the  words  with  her 
hand.  He  expended  his  strength  in  kissing  it. 
She  chided  him  with  a  smile,  but  the  suspicion 
of  a  blush  came  upon  her  cheeks.  Newton  tried 
again  to  speak  but  that  time  she  did  not  put  her 
fingers  to  his  lips  but  to  her  own.  He  frowned 
his  disappointment. 

194 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

It  was  three  days  after  he  was  hurt  before  he 
came  to  consciousness,  but  all  that  time  he  had 
heard  Sibley's  frightened  voice,  as  she  entreated 
him  to  run,  ringing  in  his  ears.  Sometimes  it 
was  as  the  singing  of  countless  birds,  again  it 
was  the  silvery  chime  of  many  bells  in  tune. 
Again  it  was  the  rippling  of  waves,  or  it  swelled 
into  the  rolling  music  of  the  spheres.  Various 
forms  it  took ;  but  it  was  always  Sibley's  voice. 

The  first  thing  of  which  he  was  aware  when 
he  crept  back  to  consciousness  was  the  touch  of 
a  soft  hand  upon  his  forehead.  How  cool  it 
was  and  how  lightly  it  rested  upon  his  brow. 
He  wondered  whose  it  was  and  he  started  to 
open  his  eyes.  As  he  did  so  he  felt  the  flutter 
of  a  breath  on  his  cheek.  He  raised  his  lids 
and  found  himself  looking  deep  into  Sibley's 
eyes.  She  drew  quickly  back.  Had  he  been 
fully  conscious  he  would  have  seen  that  a  blush 
crimsoned  her  cheeks  a  deeper  red.  He  closed 
his  eyes.  In  a  few  moments  he  felt  the  hand 
sweep  lightly  over  his  forehead  again  and,  as 
he  did  not  stir,  rest  there.  He  kept  his  eyes 
shut  and  sank  to  sleep. 

195 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Now  he  was  getting  better.  His  iron  consti 
tution  had  triumphed  and  he  was  slowly  re 
gaining  his  strength.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  feel 
the  life  coming  into  his  limbs  again.  He  held 
up  his  great  arms.  How  powerful  they  had 
been  a  month  ago.  How  feeble  they  were  now. 
Before  he  could  have  twisted  a  horse-shoe  out 
of  shape,  now  a  child  could  have  held  him  down. 

It  made  him  happy  to  feel  the  strength  com 
ing  back  again,  but  there  was  something  that 
took  the  delight  out  of  it  and  sometimes  made 
him  wish  that  he  could  always  remain  weak  and 
speechless.  The  more  he  improved  in  health 
the  less  he  saw  of  Sibley.  She  relaxed  her 
sleepless  watch  as  soon  as  it  was  assured  that 
all  danger  was  passed  and  she  gave  her  place 
up  more  and  more  to  her  mother.  Her  interest 
in  him  seemed  to  pale  in  an  inverse  ratio  as  he 
regained  his  health.  What  little  services  she 
did  him  now  were  done  in  a  perfunctory  way 
and  she  escaped  as  soon  thereafter  as  she 
could.  Now  and  then  she  would  sit  by  his 
bed  for  an  hour  or  so  in  the  afternoon  and 
196 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

read  to  him,  but  if  he  essayed  to  draw  her 
attention  away  from  her  book  and  attempt 
to  have  her  talk  with  him  she  left  him  ab 
ruptly.  At  length  he  saw  her  scarcely  at 
all.  If  he  wished  anything  and  called  it  was 
always  her  mother  who  came,  or  even  Reuben. 
If  it  was  in  the  evening  Ridgeby  and  Lilt  would 
wait  on  him.  Lilt  did  not  make  a  bad  nurse. 
He  would  sit  by  Newton's  side  for  two  or  three 
hours  in  the  evenings  and  read  to  him  in  his 
clumsy  fashion,  or  tell  him  the  news  of  the 
county  as  he  heard  it  from  the  other  hired 
hands.  Lilt  took  Newton's  injury  considerably 
to  heart.  He  considered  himself  largely  re 
sponsible  for  it  as  Newton  would  not  have  been 
drawn  into  the  melee  had  he  not  been  so 
"  bustin'  "  for  a  fight.  He  never  tired  of  de 
scribing  how  Newton  bore  himself.  Knight  of 
Old  never  had  a  more  faithful  minstrel  to  sing 
his  prowess. 

Newton    knew    one    afternoon,    from    the 
sounds  in  the  kitchen,  that  Sibley  was  alone. 
He  could  hear  her  singing  "  Bon  Ami  "  as  she 
197 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wiped  the  dinner  dishes.  Her  mother  had 
gone  to  a  neighbour's  and  Reuben  had  been 
sent  to  the  village  on  an  errand.  Newton  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  call  her.  A  mo 
ment  later  she  opened  the  door  and  looked  in. 

"  Can't  you  come  in  ?  I'm  lonesome,"  he 
pleaded. 

"  Haven't  you  your  thoughts  for  company?  " 
she  asked  carelessly. 

"  No,  they  are  out  there  with  you.  They 
won't  stay  in  here." 

She  laughed  lightly. 

"  I  can't  say  that  they  fill  the  room  up  very 
much.  I'm  afraid  that  you  will  have  to  con 
tinue  being  lonesome.  I  can't  leave  my  work 
just  now." 

The  expression  on  his  face  became  more 
earnest. 

"  Come  in  just  for  a  moment,"  he  pleaded. 
"  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

She  hesitated,  then  went  up  to  the  bed. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  matter 
of  fact  tone  that  did  not  at  all  fit  in  with  his 
mood. 

198 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  for  all  you  have  done 
for  me,  Miss  Sibley,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  I 
have  not  said  anything  before  because  I  did  not 
know  how  to  say  it.  I  can  not  say  it  now  as 
well  as  I  would  like.  But  I  would  not  have  you 
think  me  ungrateful." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  you  wanted?  "  she  laughed 
carelessly.  "  Did  you  bring  me  in  here  away 
from  my  work  just  to  tell  me  that?  Well  I'm 
too  busy  to  stay  and  listen  to  it.  Mother  will 
be  back  pretty  soon  and  you  can  tell  it  to  her. 
She  is  the  one  that  has  taken  care  of  you.  I 
have  done  very  little  except  to  help  her  now 
and  then." 

She  started  to  turn  away.  Newton  caught 
her  by  the  dress  and  held  her.  She  turned  back 
with  a  slight  frown  upon  her  face.  Newton 
saw  it  and  it  hurt  him. 

"  Frown  if  you  want  to,"  he  said.  "  But,  I 
will  hold  you  here  until  I  tell  you  what  I  want 
to.  I  haven't  very  much  strength  left  but  I 
will  use  what  I  have." 

She  smiled  carelessly. 

"  Well  go  on  and  talk  if  you  want  to,  I 
199 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

can't  stop  that,"  she  said  with  a  laugh,  that  was 
intended  to  disarm  him. 

"You  are  the  one  who  has  taken  care  of 
me,"  he  said,  seriously.  "  Can't  I  see  how  pale 
you  are,  can't  I  see  that  you  are  thin  and  worn  ? 
Don't  I  know  what  caused  it?  It  was  taking 
care  of  me  when  I  was  likely  either  to  live  or 
die  with  the  odds  on  the  wrong  side.  I  knew 
that  you  were  with  me  all  the  time.  I  could  not 
see  you  but  I  felt  that  you  were  there.  I  believe 
that  I  should  have  died  had  you  left  me.  That 
I  am  alive  now  is  owing  to  you  and  now  you 
don't  want  me  even  to  thank  you.  You  are 
offsetting  all  your  kindnesses  with  cruelty." 

Sibley  tried  to  keep  the  careless  look  on  her 
face  but  failed.  The  light  smile  died  away  and 
she  bit  her  lips  nervously.  She  looked  toward 
the  door. 

"  What  I  did  was  very  little.  You  magnify 
it.  I  could  not  have  done  less  for  anyone,"  she 
said  slowly.  "  I  could  not  leave  you  to  die.  I 
would  not  do  that  even  to  a  dog." 

"  I  do  not  delude  myself  with  the  idea  that 
you  did  it  simply  because  it  was  I,"  he  returned 
200 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

with  a  note  of  bitterness  in  his  tone.  "  I  know 
that  you  would  do  as  much  for  a  tramp  picked 
up  in  the  road.  In  fact  that  was  what  you  were 
kind  to  in  me,  a  tramp  that  Ridgeby  picked  up 
in  the  road.  But  because  I  know  that  you 
would  have  done  the  same  to  anyone  does  not 
release  me  from  my  debt  of  gratitude.  I  hope 
that  nothing  will  ever  arise  in  your  life  that  will 
give  me  the  opportunity  to  repay  it,  but  if  there 
should  I  shall  not  fail  to  do  it." 

"  You  owe  me  nothing,"  Sibley  said  seriously 
without  looking  at  him.  "  You  must  remem 
ber  that  it  was  I  who  was  largely  responsible 
for  your  hurt.  If  you  had  died  I  should  have 
felt  that  I  had  murdered  you." 

"  You  responsible  for  my  hurt  ? "  he  ex 
claimed.  "  Pray  how  is  that  ?  " 

There  came  a  quaver  in  Sibley's  voice  when 
she  replied.  She  was  also  winking  hard  to 
keep  back  the  tears. 

"  My  coquetry  aroused  Abner's  jealousy  to 

such  an  extent  that  he  was  beside  himself.    He 

swore  to  me  that  he  would  find  some  way  to 

revenge    himself    on  you.      When   you    were 

201 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

wrestling  I  was  in  an  agony  for  I  did  not  know 
what  he  might  do.  I  feared  that  something 
would  happen.  It  was  all  my  fault.  If  I  had 
confined  myself  to  Abner's  care  as  I  should  have 
done  nothing  would  have  happened  and  you 
would  be  strong  and  well  instead  of  lying  here 
helpless.  I  should  have  been  heartless  indeed 
not  to  give  you  some  small  care  after  what  I  had 
done.  It  was  my  coquetry  that  did  it." 

Newton  caught  his  breath.  That  was  a  shot 
that  cut  him  to  the  quick.  He  had  forgotten 
that  Sibley  was  to  marry  Abner  Hawkins.  The 
thought  came  to  him  with  a  force  that  it  had 
never  possessed  before.  He  looked  up  at  her. 
She  had  never  looked  so  pretty  to  him.  She 
to  marry  Abner  Hawkins?  He  wondered  if 
those  were  tears  welling  up  to  his  eyes.  His 
face  became  very  sober.  Hers  caught  the  ex 
pression  as  a  mirror  and  became  very  sober  too. 

"  Did  you  dance  with  me  that  night,"  he 
asked  slowly,  "  simply  out  of  a  spirit  of  co 
quetry?" 

She  clutched  nervously  at  her  apron.     Her 

face  paled. 

202 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Perhaps  not  exactly  that,"  she  said  after 
a  moment.  "  But  the  result  was  the  same.  I 
should  not  have  done  it." 

He  looked  at  her  earnestly  for  a  moment. 

"  Are  you  sorry  that  you  did  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Of  course  I  am,"  she  answered.  "  See  what 
has  happened." 

"  I  don't  care  what  has  happened,"  he  cried 
impatiently.  "  I  would  pay  the  same  price 
again  for  the  same  pleasure." 

Sibley's  face  lighted  for  a  moment.  Then  it 
darkened  again.  When  she  replied  it  was  with 
a  forced  voice.  She  tried  to  pull  away. 

"  Now  you  are  talking  nonsense,"  she  said. 

"  Nonsense  or  no  nonsense,"  he  cried  des 
perately,  holding  her  back.  "  If  ever  again 
I  have  the  opportunity  of  purchasing  so  great 
a  pleasure  from  you  I  will  pay  as  great  a  price." 

"  No  you  will  not,"  she  replied  firmly." 

"I  won't?" 

"  No,  for  I  will  not  let  you." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked  with  a 
drawn  breath. 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment  as  though  trying 
203 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

to  gain  complete  control  of  herself  before  she 
answered  him. 

"  I  mean  that  from  this  time  on  we  must 
not  be  even  friends.  Abner's  jealousy  is  so 
great  that  I  cannot  have  even  a  friend.  I  have 
no  right  to  anger  him." 

Newton  raised  himself  on  his  elbow. 

"  Must  I  give  you  up  entirely,"  he  cried 
wildly,  "  to  that  man,  that  savage,  that  boor, 
that  dog,  that  low  born  whelp " 

Sibley's  face  became  pale  as  the  dress  she 
wore.  She  gave  a  quick  gasp.  Then  she  drew 
herself  up  and  stopped  his  tirade  with  a  gesture. 

"  Remember,"  she  said  firmly,  "  that  what 
ever  he  is,  I  am  his  promised  wife." 

She  pulled  away  from  him  and  hurried  out 
of  the  room  closing  the  door  with  a  slam  behind 
her.  Newton  sank  back  exhausted.  Sibley 
stumbled  to  her  room  and  stifled  a  flood  of 
tears  in  a  pillow. 


204 


Chapter  XIV 

DURING  the  next  three  days  Newton 
did  not  see  Sibley.  He  did  not  even 
hear  her  voice.  It  was  her  usual  cus 
tom  to  sing  about  her  work,  but  she  did  not  sing 
any  more.  He  had  to  content  himself  with 
listening  to  the  sound  of  her  footsteps. 

He  was  gazing  gloomily  up  at  the  ceiling 
weaving  Sibley's  face  in  the  shadows  when  Lilt 
tramped  in.  He  had  just  finished  the  chores  for 
the  night.  He  carefully  closed  the  door  behind 
him  and  stood  awkwardly  clinging  to  the  knob. 
He  shuffled  uneasily  about  on  his  feet. 

"  Say,  Newt,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  half  whisper, 
"  Didn't  yeh  lay  in  a  white  shirt  a  while  ago  ?  " 

Newton  replied  that  he  did. 

"  Well  say,"  Lilt  continued  as  though  fear 
ing  he  might  be  overheard,  "  Would  yeh  min' 
lendin'  me  th'  loan  of  it  fer  a  spell  t'night?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  not,"  Newton  laughed 
back.  "What's  up?" 

"  Sh ! "  Lilt  cautioned  nervously,  his  face 
205 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

flushing.  "  Don't  talk  s'  darned  loud  or  they'll 
hear  yeh,"  pointing  with  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder.  "  Where's  th'  shirt  ?  " 

"Hanging  up  in  the  closet.  What's  the 
matter,  Lilt?" 

"  Nawthin'.  Only  thought  I  might  slick  up 
a  bit.  May  go  over  t'  th'  Grahams's  after  a 
while, 

"  Haint  been  over  there  in  some  time,"  he 
added  as  he  brought  the  shirt  out  from  the 
closet.  "  Got  any  objections  t'  my  changin'  in 
here?" 

"  No,  go  ahead.  What's  in  the  wind  any 
way?" 

Lilt  became  too  much  occupied  in  making  the 
change  of  garments  to  heed  the  question.  A 
quizzical  smile  came  over  Newton's  face. 

"  You  had  better  '  fess  up/  Lilt.  This  busi 
ness  of  your  putting  on  a  white  shirt  must 
mean  something  serious." 

Lilt's  face  was  buried  in  the  depths  of  the 
shirt  as  he  pulled  it  over  his  head. 

"  Yeh  haven't  got  a  collar,  too,  have  yeh?  " 
he  asked  when  his  head  appeared  in  sight. 
206 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Newton  laughed  uproariously.  He  confessed 
that  he  possessed  such  a  thing  and  that  it  was 
at  his  service.  Lilt's  face  became  very  crimson. 

"What    yeh    laughin'    at?"    he    growled. 
"  Yeh'll  bust  'at  lung  o'  yourn  ef  yeh  think  it's 
s'  danged  funny." 

"  Oh  come,  own  up  Lilt,"  shouted  Newton. 
"What  are  you  going  after,  a  wife?" 

"  Don't  talk  s'  danged  loud,"  Lilt  whispered 
desperately.  "  Folks  '11  hear  yeh.  Where's  th' 
collar." 

"  In  the  drawer.  Who's  the  girl,  Sue  Gra 
ham?" 

"  None  o'  yer  danged  business.  Got  a 
necktie?" 

"  Look  here,"  Newton  exclaimed  with  mock 
seriousness.  "  I'm  willing  you  should  wear  my 
clothes,  but  I  demand  to  know  where  they  are 
going.  I  think  I  ought  to  be  informed  what 
sort  of  an  affair  I  am  aiding  and  abetting." 

"Well  I'm  a  bettin'  yeh  don't  find  out 
nahthin'  bout  it.  Where's  th'  tie?  " 

"  In  that  box.  You  had  better  let  me  ar 
range  it  for  you." 

207 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Lilt  brought  it  out  and  knelt  sheepishly  by 
the  bed  while  Newton  deftly  tied  it  in  a  neat 
bow. 

"  Yeh  must  be  ust  t'  tyin'  them  things,"  Lilt 
said  in  admiration  as  he  surveyed  it  in  the 
glass. 

"  You  look  like  a  city  gallant,"  Newton  re 
turned  without  noticing  the  question.  "  You 
will  find  a  pair  of  cuffs  in  the  drawer.  You 
might  as  well  go  the  whole  hog.  You  won't 
tell  me  anything?  " 

"  Not  a  danged  thing,"  Lilt  growled  as  he 
awkwardly  put  on  the  cuffs.  "  Wist  I  had  some 
way  o'  shinin'  up  them  boots.  They  look  mighty 
scrumpish.  There  haint  no  way  o'  doing  it 
now."  He  looked  down  at  his  great  boots  re 
proachfully. 

Lilt  took  hold  of  the  door  knob  and  started 
to  turn  it.  Then  he  changed  his  mind. 

"  Guest  I'd  better  git  out  th'  winder,"  he  said 
starting  toward  it.  "  Sibley's  got  eyes  like  a 
minx  an'  is  a  horrible  tease.  Shet  up  yer 
laughin',  'taint  s'  danged  funny  as  yeh  think  it 


is." 


208 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Newton  mastered  himself  with  a  struggle. 
As  Lilt  threw  up  the  window  he  drew  down  his 
face. 

"  Come  back  here  a  moment,  Lilt,"  he  said. 
"  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

Lilt  looked  over  his  shoulder.  Newton  held 
out  his  hand.  Lilt  came  awkwardly  toward 
the  bed  and  grasped  the  hand  gingerly.  New 
ton  felt  another  laugh  breaking  out,  but  he 
stifled  it. 

"  You  can't  hide  it,  Lilt,  so  where  is  the  use 
in  trying.  I  know  what  you  are  up  to.  Those 
clothes — "  A  grin  spread  over  his  face  that 
threatened  to  explode.  "  Good  luck  to  you. 
She  will  say  yes  all  right,  I  think.  Don't  take 
no  for  an  answer.  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip 
and  don't  get  down-hearted  whatever  hap 
pens." 

Newton  pressed  Lilt's  hand  warmly.  Lilt's 
flushed  attempt  to  answer  him  ended  in  a  stam 
mer.  He  turned  back  to  the  window  and  clam 
bered  out. 

"  Say,"  he  whispered  back,  "  Don't  yeh  say 
nahthin'  t'  th'  folks." 

209 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  took  a  few  steps,  then  stopped.  He  stood 
still  a  moment  then  returned  to  the  window. 

"  Say  Newt,"  he  whispered  hoarsely,  "  It's 
mighty  good  o'  yeh  t'  wish  me  luck,  an'  don't 
yeh  let  Ab  Hawkins  bother  yeh  a  mite.  I'm 
much  obliged  fer  th'  clothes."  He  turned 
away  hastily. 

The  laughter  in  Newton's  heart  died  with 
the  words  and  he  sank  back  on  his  pillow  with  a 
sigh. 

Lilt  made  his  way  carefully  to  the  stable  and 
putting  a  bridle  on  one  of  the  horses  led  him 
carefully  down  the  lane,  casting  anxious 
glances  toward  the  house.  When  he  was  well 
out  of  hearing  he  mounted  and  started  his  horse 
on  a  trot  down  the  road.  He  tried  to  whistle 
but  the  notes  died  on  his  lips.  He  did  not  feel 
like  making  a  noise.  There  was  an  uncertain 
feeling  about  his  heart  that  made  him  think  it 
was  likely  to  pop  up  in  his  mouth  every  min 
ute  and  a  shaky  feeling  in  his  legs  that  took  all 
the  whistle  out  of  him.  He  squirmed  about 
uneasily.  He  felt  awkward  in  Newton's 
210 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

stiff  linen.      He  almost  wished  he  had  left  it 
off. 

He  reached  Graham's  gate.  He  started  to 
turn  in  but  his  heart  failed  him  and  he  rode 
on  down  the  road.  He  went  on  for  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  when  he  turned  his  horse 
back  and  rode  past  the  gate  about  the  same  dis 
tance  in  the  other  direction.  Then  he  faced 
round  again.  He  came  up  to  the  gate. 

"  I  haint  goin'  t'  let  no  girl  scare  me  out,"  he 
muttered  and  turned  in. 

"Hullo!"  he  shouted. 

The  door  opened  and  Luke  Graham  put  his 
head  out. 

"Hullo!"  he  shouted.  "That  you,  Lilt? 
Drive  right  down  t'  th'  stable.  I'll  be  there  in  a 
jiffy.  Sue,"  he  called  over  his  shoulder, 
"  Here's  Lilt." 

Lilt  dismounted  and  led  his  horse  toward 
the  straw-thatched  stable.  Luke  joined  him  in 
a  moment.  After  putting  up  the  horse  he  led 
the  way  back  to  the  house. 

There  was  a  general  clamour  when  they  en- 
211 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

tered.  The  room  was  filled  with  Grahams  of 
assorted  sizes.  They  spied  out  the  grandeur  of 
Lilt's  dress  the  moment  he  came  in. 

"  Hullo,  Lilt.  Where'd  yeh  get  th'  shirt?  " 
shouted  Jim,  the  eldest. 

"  An*  a  collar  an'  necktie,  too,"  giggled 
Jane. 

"  Hain't  he  swell  ?  "  shrieked  one  of  the  little 
Grahams. 

"  Ef  I'd  a  knowed  yeh  had  on  them  togs  out 
there  in  th'  stable  I'd  a  rolled  yeh  on  th'  floor," 
Luke  yelled. 

"  Oh,  Sue,"  shouted  another  of  the  little  Gra 
hams.  "  Come  out  here  an'  see  yer  beau.  He's 
drest  up  t'  kill." 

Lilt  turned  a  variety  of  colours.  He  fingered 
the  collar  awkwardly. 

"  Guess  a  feller  c'n  fix  up  a  bit  once  in  a 
while,"  he  said.  "  There  haint  no  use  o'  his 
lookin'  like  a  rowdy  all  th'  time." 

Two  or  three  of  the  little  Grahams  tried  to 
climb  on  his  shoulders.  One  of  them  succeeded 
in  reaching  his  necktie  and  ruined  the  sym- 
212 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

metry  of  its  arrangement,  a  feat  which  was 
greeted  with  cheers  by  all  the  other  Grahams. 
Lilt  shook  the  children  off  a  little  roughly.  Ma 
Graham  came  in  and  restored  order  with  a  few 
slaps  and  shakes.  The  tumult  subsided,  Lilt 
wished  he  had  left  the  linen  in  Newton's  drawer 
and  had  climbed  in  with  it.  The  drawer  was 
small  but  he  was  sure  that  there  was  room  for 
him  in  it  without  overcrowding. 

Sue  had  disappeared  as  soon  as  Lilt's  arrival 
was  announced.  She  came  in  and  walked  up  to 
him.  She  did  not  dare  look  at  the  others.  Lilt 
felt  the  blood  rushing  into  his  face  again.  He 
took  her  hand  awkwardly  and  held  it  for  a 
moment  as  though  he  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  it.  Then  he  suddenly  dropped  it. 

"  How  nice  yeh  look,  Lilt,"  she  said. 

"  You  look  mighty  pretty  yerself,"  he  stam 
mered  back. 

Lilt  gazed  at  the  girl  in  admiration.     Her 

round  red  cheeks  flushed  and  she  turned  her 

big  blue  eyes  toward  the  floor.     There  was  an 

awkward  pause.    Graham  himself  came  in  and 

213 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

taking  off  his  boots  put  his  feet  on  a 
chair. 

"  How's  Ridgeby  gettin'  on/'  he  asked. 
"Corn  most  in?" 

"  Pret'  near.  Finish  next  week,  guess.  Been 
delayed  some  by  Newt's  bein'  sick."  Lilt  re 
turned. 

"How's  he  gettin' 'long?" 

"  Pret'  well.  Be  all  right  in  a  couple  of 
weeks,  guess." 

"  Colt  got  over  his  lameness  yet  ?  " 

"  Yep,  he's  all  right.    How's  yer  bay  mare." 

"  Pret'  bad.  Got  t'  let  her  run  fer  th'  winter. 
Win's  bad.  How's  Mis'  Ridgeby?" 

"  Roomatiz  botherin'  her  some.  She's  peart' 
'nuff  barrin'  that.  Got  yer  corn  most  in  ?  " 

"  Luke  an'  Jim's  just  finishin'  up.  Think 
yeh'll  get  through  t'morrow,  Jim  ?  " 

"  Guess  so,  ef  Lilt's  clothes  haint  upset  me  so 
I  can't  sleep  none  t'night." 

There  was  a  general  laugh  in  which  every 
one  joined  except  Lilt  and  the  girl. 

"  Yeh  don't  have  t'  fix  up  that  a  way  jes'  t' 
214 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

come  over  here,"  said  Ma  Graham.     "  We're 
jes'  uz  glad  t'  see  yeh  in  common  clothes." 

The  girl  sat  with  her  hands  in  her  lap  and 
said  nothing. 

"  Say  Sue,"  Lilt  exclaimed  suddenly  as  there 
came  a  lull  in  the  conversation,  "  I'm  thirsty. 
Let's  go  an'  get  a  drink  out  t'  th'  well." 

"  Jes's  well  send  one  o'  th'  young'uns,"  put 
in  Ma  Graham.  "  Teddy  run  out  t'  th'  well  an' 
draw  a  fresh  bucket  o'  water." 

The  boy  went  off  reluctantly.  Lilt  glared 
after  him. 

"  Ridgeby  goin'  t'  put  in  any  winter  wheat?  " 
Graham  asked. 

"  Guess  he'll  plow  up  th'  secont  medder  an' 
put  that  in  wheat,  an'  seed  down  th'  ole  field." 

"  When  yeh  goin'  t'  thrash?  "  asked  Jim. 

"  Soon's  Herrick  gets  round.  He's  pret' 
busy." 

The  boy  came  in  with  the  water.  Lilt  drank 
a  dipper  full.  He  took  as  long  a  time  to  it  as 
he  could  and  managed  to  throw  Sue  a  glance 
under  cover  of  it. 

215 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Say,  Sue,"  he  asked,  "  Any  o'  them  ever- 
lastin's  left  in  th'  bed.  All  I  need  t'  fix  out 
these  fixings  is  a  bokay." 

"Why  didn't  we  think  'bout  it  before," 
chimed  in  Ma  Graham.  "  Julie  run  out  in  th' 
yard  and  pick  a  bunch  for  Lilt." 

The  girl  was  up  and  gone  before  Lilt  could 
interpose  an  objection. 

"  D'yeh  hear  'bout  th'  big  coon  Jake  Anson 
ketched  las'  week  ?  "  Luke  asked. 

"  Naw." 

"  He  treed  a  whopper  down  in  Keller's  holler 
in  th'  cottonwood.  He  says  it's  th'  bigges' 
ketched  yet  this  year." 

"  Jake  says  he  seen  a  cat  that  night,  too," 
put  in  Jim.  "  It  got  away  from  him  though." 

"  Say  Sue,  let's  take  a  walk,"  Lilt  exclaimed 
desperately.  "  Come  on,  yeh  don't  need  no  hat." 

He  escaped  out  the  door.  The  girl  joined 
him  and  closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"  It's  too  nice  t'  stay  in  th'  house,"  Lilt  said. 

"  Tis  pretty  nice." 

"  Le's  walk  down  th'  road  a  piece." 

He  took  her  arm.  It  was  a  round  arm  and 
216 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

muscular.  All  of  the  girl's  charms  were  of  the 
strong  variety.  Her  form  was  robust  and  well 
knit.  Her  hands  were  large,  but  toil  had  not  yet 
ruined  their  shapeliness.  Her  face  was  open 
and  wore  a  cheerful  expression.  Her  red  cheeks 
and  big  blue  eyes  made  it  pleasing.  Her  hair 
was  drawn  back  and  fell  in  a  heavy  braid 
behind. 

They  walked  some  ways  without  speaking. 
The  moon  shone  down  on  them  from  an  un 
clouded  sky.  The  stars  were  brilliant. 

"  How's  Sibley?  "  Sue  asked  at  last. 

"  She's  all  right,"  Lilt  answered  mechani 
cally. 

It  was  some  little  time  before  either  of  them 
spoke  again.  They  did  not  want  to  talk  about 
any  one  else  and  did  not  dare  to  talk  of  them 
selves.  Lilt  kept  his  eyes  bent  toward  the  moon. 
Sue's  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  ground. 
Once  in  a  while  she  would  steal  a  glance  at 
Lilt. 

"  How  bright  th'  moon  is  t'night,"  she  said 
at  last,  looking  up. 

"  Yes,  I've  been  lookin'  at  it,"  Lilt  answered. 
217 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Wonder  ef  th'  moon's  made  o'  green  cheese 
like  they  say  'tis.  Ef  I  thought  it  was  b'lieve 
I'd  get  married  an'  go  up  there  t'  live." 

There  was  another  pause.  They  were  walk 
ing  very  slowly.  They  hung  close  by  the  side. 
of  the  road  to  avoid  the  dust.  The  path  was 
narrow  and  they  were  compelled  to  keep  very 
close  together. 

"  Don't  b'lieve  I'll  stay  with  Ridgeby  much 
longer,"  Lilt  said  slowly  after  a  while. 

"  Yeh  ain't  goin'  away  are  yeh?  "  she  asked. 
There  was  a  slight  tremble  in  her  voice  and  she 
looked  harder  at  the  ground. 

"  Don't  know  exactly,  I'll  stay  with 
Ridgeby  durin'  th'  winter  an'  light  out  in  th' 
spring.  Newt's  a  good  feller  an'  I  guess  I'll  let 
him  have  my  place." 

Sue's  eyes  lost  sight  of  the  ground  from  the 
tears  that  came  into  them. 

"  I've  got  a  chance  t'  stay  but  I  don't  know 
whether  I  will  or  not." 

She  hung  closer  to  his  arm  but  did  not  make 
a  reply. 

218 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Ain't  nobody  round  here  'at  cares  whether 
I  stay  here  er  not." 

"  P'raps  there  is." 

"  I  don't  know  who  'tis." 

"  I  don't  s'pose  yeh  care  but  I'd  be  real  sorry 
t'  have  yeh  go  away." 

"  Would  yeh  ?  "  Lilt's  voice  was  hopeful. 

"  Course  I  would.  Haint  we  had  some  good 
times  t'gether?" 

"  I  have." 

"  So've  I." 

"  I  don't  want  t'  go,"  he  said  slowly. 

"  I  don't  want  yeh  t'  go  either." 

Lilt  began  to  forget  about  his  white  shirt 
and  collars  and  cuffs.  He  was  becoming  him 
self  again. 

"  I've  got  a  good  chance  t'  take  th'  Jackson 
place  for  a  reason'ble  rent  an'  set  up  fer  m'self. 
I've  been  thinkin'  some  o'  doin'  it." 

"  Oh,  that  ud  be  nice,"  Sue  cried  joyfully. 
"  That's  only  half  a  mile  fr'm  our  place  an'  yeh 
could  come  over  real  often." 

Lilt  began  to  pick  up  courage. 
219 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Ridgeby's  been  pret'  lib'rel  with  me  an* 
I've  got  over  four  hundred  dollars  saved  up  to 
buy  tools  with.  It's  a  good  chance  an'  I'd  like 
t'  stay  an'  take  it." 

"  I  hope  yeh  do." 

"  P'raps  I  will — Ef  you  want  me  too,"  he 
added. 

"  Course  I  do." 

Lilt  stopped  and  tightening  his  clasp  on 
the  girl's  arm  turned  her  toward  him.  He 
braced  back  his  shoulders.  He  looked  fairly 
handsome  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Aw,  Darn  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "  What's  th' 
use  o'  my  hemmin'  an'  hawin'  like  a  scart  cow  ? 
I've  got  somepin  to  say  an'  I'm  goin'  t'  say  it 
ef  it  takes  a  laig.  I  ain't  got  no  idea  o'  goin' 
away.  You  couldn't  pull  me  away  from  this 
county  with  a  ten-horse  team,  leastways  not  so 
long  uz  you're  here  no  how.  I  want  t'  take  th' 
Jackson  place  an'  I  want  yeh  t'  go  in  with  me 
on  sheers.  What  d'ye  say?" 

Sue  began  to  tap  her  foot  in  the  dust.  Lflt 
waited  an  instant  for  her  to  reply  then  he 
hurried  on. 

220 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  can't  do  things  th'  way  they  do  in  th' 
story  books.  I  had  a  nice  little  speech  all  made 
up  an'  I've  forgot  every  las'  bit  of  it.  But  I 
haint  fergot  'at  you're  th'  prettiest  girl  in  Haw 
kins  county  an'  that  I've  been  head  over  heels 
in  love  with  yeh  fer  two  years,  so  fer  in,  that 
nahthin'  but  my  ears  wuz  stickin'  out.  I've 
been  scart  to  death  'at  somebody  else  'ud  come 
long  an'  get  yeh  fore  I  uz  able  t'  do  nothin'. 
I've  worked  like  a  nailer  t'  get  a  little  somepin 
t'gether  so  I  cud  come  t'  yeh  like  a  man.  I 
haint  got  much  now  but  I've  got  'nuff  t'  start 
on.  An'  ef  yeh'll  marry  me  I'll  be  jes'  uz  good 
t'  yeh  uz  I  know  how.  I  don't  s'pose  yeh 
will,  but  ef  yeh  don't  I'll  be  th'  worst  cut 
up  feller  yeh  ever  see.  Will  yeh  'er  won't 
yeh?" 

Sue  continued  to  pat  the  dust  with  her  foot. 
The  pleading  was  urgent  and  she  was  tempted 
to  assent.  The  wind  rose  a  little  and  the  wheat 
field  added  an  appeal.  The  corn  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road  rustled  an  entreaty.  Lilt  was 
waiting. 

"  Hurry  up  an'  tell  me,"  urged  Lilt.  "  For 
221 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

I  don't  think  I  can  keep  my  arms  from  'round 
yeh  mor'n  a  minute  longer." 

She  looked  up  at  him. 

"  Can't  yeh  see  I'm  cryinV  she  answered. 
"  An'  couldn't  see  ef  yeh  did." 


222 


Chapter  XV 


LILT'S  cheerful  whistle  aroused  Newton 
the  next  morning.     He  stopped  on  his 
way  out  to  the  barn  and  opening  New 
ton's  door  put  his  head  in.    He  grinned  sheep 
ishly,  winked  very  broadly  and  closed  the  door 
again.  Then  he  went  out  to  milk,  still  whistling 
shrilly.    Newton  smiled.    Then  his  face  became 
grave  and  he  turned  uneasily  on  his  pillow. 

"  Lucky  Lilt,"  he  sighed.  "  I  suppose  he 
will  be  married  in  the  spring — About  the  same 
time  as  Sibley.  Pshaw !  " 

He  threw  his  hands  back  of  his  head  and 
tried  to  listen  to  Lilt  shouting  at  the  cows.  He 
heard  Sibley  moving  about  the  kitchen  and 
Reuben's  limping  shuffle.  A  feeling  of  unrest 
came  in  his  heart.  He  threw  a  pillow  at  the 
wall.  Its  mate  followed  it.  He  tossed  back 
the  bed  clothes  and  got  out  upon  the  floor.  He 
found  himself  to  be  very  weak,  but  he  managed 
to  dress  himself  partly.  Then  he  called  Reuben 
and  with  his  awkward  assistance  completed  his 
toilet.  Lilt  came  in  with  the  milk  pails. 
223 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Help  me  out  into  the  other  room,"  Newton 
called. 

"  Hullo,  Newt.  Got  up,  have  yeh,"  Lilt  ex 
claimed  lustily,  coming  to  the  door.  "  Well 
Fm  most  glad  t'  see  yeh  out.  Most  uz  glad  uz 
I  am—" 

He  checked  himself  and  stood  gazing 
awkwardly  at  the  floor  while  his  face  took  on 
the  hue  of  his  hair. 

He  picked  Newton  up  and  carried  him  out 
to  where  a  chair  had  been  fixed  for  him  by  the 
kitchen  window.  Sibley's  face  lighted  as  she 
arranged  it  but  she  busied  herself  about  the 
stove  as  Lilt  carried  Newton  out. 

"  Want  t'  wras'le  now?  "  Lilt  laughed  as  he 
set  his  load  down.  "  B'lieve  I  cud  throw  yeh 
ef  I  tried  hard  miff." 

"  Wait  about  three  weeks  until  I  get  about 
half  my  strength  back  and  I  will  give  you  a 
tussle.  I  will  be  just  about  a  match  for  you 
then." 

"Haw,  Haw,  Haw!"  shouted  Lilt  as  he 
straightened  up.  "  Yeh  ain't  got  th'  big  head 
224 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ner  nahthin'  have  yeh?    Yeh  must  think  yer  a 
secont  Samson." 

Newton  reached  up  and  caught  him  by  the 
chin. 

"  Well/'  he  laughed,  "  I  have  laid  hold  on 
the  jaw  bone  of  an  ass." 

Ridgeby  came  up  chuckling  and  bobbing  his 
head. 

"  Got  yeh  that  time,  didn't  he,  Lilt?  Yeh 
haint  had  yer  tongue  hurt  none  have  yeh  ?  " 
He  chuckled  again. 

"  Ef  yed  take  my  advice,"  cackled  Reuben 
as  he  shuffled  up,  "  Yeh  wouldn't  been  in 
sech  a  hurry  t'  get  up.  I  got  stuck  with  a 
bay'net  at  Anteetem,  an'  yeh  can't  be  too  keer- 
ful." 

Mrs.  Ridgeby  bustled  about  getting  foot 
stools  and  shawls.  Only  Sibley  was  quiet. 

"  We're  mighty  glad  t'  see  yeh  out  here, 
Newton,"  Ridgeby  said.  "  We've  been  spiling 
t'  see  yeh  with  us  agin.  Sibley  haint  et  nahthin' 
since  yeh  wuz  hurt  an'  we've  all  been  kinder 
glum." 

225 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  looked  at  Sibley  leaning  over  the  stove 
and  chuckled  and  bobbed  his  head.  A  flush 
crept  over  the  girl's  face.  Newton  thought  it 
was  from  the  heat  of  the  fire. 

"  Well,  Lilt,  aren't  you  going  to  tell  us  all 
about  it  now  that  it's  settled?  "  Newton  asked 
while  they  were  eating  breakfast. 

Lilt  stammered  and  choked.  Then  he  grinned 
broadly. 

"  Guess  'twont  intrest  them  none." 

Newton  thought  it  would. 

"  What's  up  Lilt?  "  asked  Ridgeby.  "  Taint 
nahthin'  ser'us  is  it?" 

Lilt  blushed  and  hammered  the  table  with 
his  knife.  Newton  could  not  help  laughing. 
Lilt  turned  on  him. 

"  Shet  up!  "  he  shouted.  "  Yeh'll  bust  yer 
lung." 

"  Taint  nahthin'  "  he  said  turning  back, 
"  'Cept  that  I've  decided  t'  go  in  with  one  of  th' 
Grahams  an'  take  th'  Jackson  place  in  th' 
spring  an'  run  it  on  sheers." 

Ridgeby  nodded  his  head  approvingly. 
226 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I'll  be  mighty  sorry  t'  lose  yeh,  Lilt,"  he 
said,  "  But  I'm  glad  t'  see  yeh  striking  out 
fer  yer  self.  Yeh  don't  want  t'  alus  be  workin' 
for  other  folks.  That's  a  good  piece  o'  land  an' 
yeh  ought  t'  do  well  on  it." 

Lilt  continued  to  hammer  the  table  with  his 
knife. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  Reuben  started. 

"  Who  yeh  goin'  in  with  ?  "  asked  Ridgeby. 

"  One  o'  th'  Grahams." 

"Who,  Luke?" 

"  Naw." 

"Jim?" 

"  Naw." 

"Hank?" 

"  Naw." 

Sibley  was  smiling. 

"  I  believe  I  am  a  better  guesser,"  she  said. 
"Isn't  it  Sue?" 

Lilt  gave  the  table  a  parting  pound. 

"  Yeh've  guessed  it." 

There  was  an  uproar.  Ridgeby  chuckled  and 
bobbed  his  head.  His  wife  laughed.  Reuben 
227 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

cackled.  Newton  roared.  Sibley  extended  her 
hand  across  the  table. 

"  Good  fer  you.  Good  fer  you,"  chuckled 
Ridgeby.  "  Why  didn't  yeh  say  yeh's  goin' 
to  get  married  an'  be  done  with  it.  I'm  mighty 
glad  of  it.  I  guess  yeh  got  th'  pick  o'  the 
fam'ly." 

"  Her  ma  says  she's  th'  best  housekeeper  in 
th'  county,"  said  his  wife. 

"  She's  a  good  girl  all  the  way  through, 
Lilt,"  said  Sibley,  "  And  will  make  you  the 
best  kind  of  a  wife.  I  think  you  are  the  luckiest 
man  in  Hawkins  county." 

Newton  could  not  help  thinking  of  Abner 
Hawkins  in  that  connection. 

"  Ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice,"  shrilled  Reuben, 
"  Yeh'll  be  mighty  keerful." 

"  How're  yeh  goin'  t'  stock  th'  farm  ? " 
Ridgeby  asked. 

"  I've  saved  up  over  four  hundred  dollars  t' 

buy  tools  with.     Don't  expect  t'  get  much  at 

first.     Be  a  pret'  hard  rub  fer  a  while  but  I 

guess  we  can  make  it.    Sue  knows  I  haint  got 

228 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

much  but  she  says  she  don't  keer.  She's  willin' 
t'  take  a  streak  o'  th'  lean  an'  run  her  chances 
'at  th'  fat  '11  corne  after  awhile." 

A  thoughtful  look  came  over  Ridgeby's  face. 
He  scratched  the  back  of  his  ear. 

"  Tell  yeh  what  I've  got  a  good  notion  t'  do, 
Lilt,"  he  said  after  a  moment.  "  Yeh've  allus 
worked  square  for  me.  I  never  had  a  better 
hand,  an'  I  wish  I  wuz  in  a  place  where  I  cud 
do  somepin'  fer  yeh.  But  yeh  know  what  a 
hard  row  I've  had  lately  so  I  can't  do  much. 
I'm  goin'  t'  give  yeh  yer  pick  o'  two  o'  th' 
cows  an'  yeh  can  have  th'  colt.  He'll  be  ready 
t'  break  in  th'  spring." 

Lilt  stammered  his  thanks. 

"  I  am  going  to  make  your  wife  a  present  of 
about  twelve  of  my  chickens,"  said  Sibley.  "  I 
have  more  than  I  can  take  care  of." 

"  Yeh  can  take  my  bes'  clothes  t'  get  mar 
ried  in,"  quavered  Reuben. 

"  Two  o'  my  calves  are  yourn,"  Mrs. 
Ridgeby  echoed. 

Lilt  brushed  his  great  hands  across  his  eyes 
229 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

and  rising  hastily  from  his  chair  strode  out  the 
door.  Before  they  had  recovered  from  their 
astonishment  they  heard  him  driving  down  the 
lane  towards  the  fields. 

"  Ef  he'd  tuk  my  advice  he'd  a  stayed  an'  got 
th'  hull  farm,"  drawled  Reuben. 

Mrs.  Ridgeby  had  an  errand  at  the  village 
and  Reuben  hitched  up  the  little  mare  and  drove 
her  down.  Newton  was  left  alone  with  Sibley. 

He  sat  by  the  window  and  gazed  out.  A  row 
of  hives  stood  behind  the  house.  He  could  see 
the  bees  flying  in  and  out.  He  watched  Sibley 
as  she  passed  them  on  her  way  to  feed  the 
calves.  She  stood  and  watched  the  creatures 
as  they  eagerly  sucked  in  the  milk.  Newton 
saw  her  shade  her  eyes  and  look  across  the 
fields.  He  wondered  if  she  was  looking  out 
with  the  hope  of  seeing  Abner  Hawkins  some 
where.  In  a  moment  she  came  back  into  the 
kitchen. 

"  Aren't  you  afraid  of  the  bees,"  he  asked, 
still  looking  out  the  window. 

"  Why?  "  Sibley  asked  carelessly. 
230 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  should  think  you  would  fear  they  would 
steal  the  honey  from  your  lips." 

A  suspicion  of  a  blush  crept  into  her  cheeks. 
She  was  wiping  the  kitchen  table  and  vented 
her  feelings  in  the  rubbing.  Newton  drummed 
on  the  window-sill.  Evidently  she  did  not  in 
tend  to  answer  him.  She  gave  the  table  a  part 
ing  rub. 

"  I  am  afraid  the  honey  would  find  a  poor 
market." 

"  Not  unless  the  buyer  could  get  it  first  hand. 
Have  you  any  for  sale?  " 

Sibley  was  just  pouring  boiling  water  from 
the  kettle  into  the  dishpan.  She  turned  and 
looked  toward  him.  He  was  gazing  away 
across  the  swells  to  where  he  could  see  Lilt 
driving  out  of  a  corn  field.  She  set  the  kettle 
back  on  the  stove  and  started  to  roll  up  her 
sleeves.  Newton  caught  the  act  from  a  faint 
reflection  in  the  window  glass.  He  turned 
around.  Sibley's  arms  had  not  lost  their  fasci 
nation.  He  wished  he  were  an  artist  that  he 
might  paint  them.  They  were  ideal,  round, 
231 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

white,  smooth,  strong,  perfectly  formed.  He 
thought  of  those  arms  around  Abner  Hawkins' 
neck.  He  shivered.  The  shiver  made  him 
reckless. 

'  You  would  look  like  a  madonna  in  evening 
dress,"  he  said.  "  Your  arms  would  make  a 
sensation  in  a  ball  room,  they  are  so  pretty." 

"  I  didn't  know  that  the  Madonna  was  ever 
represented  in  evening  dress,"  she  returned 
tartly,  plunging  her  arms  deeper  in  the  suds. 

Newton  looked  out  the  window  again  and 
drummed  on  the  sill.  He  saw  Lilt  driving  up 
the  lane.  Catching  sight  of  Newton  he  swung 
his  hat  around  his  head.  Then  he  disappeared 
toward  the  barn. 

"  Happy  Lilt,"  Newton  sighed. 

"  He  ought  to  be,"  returned  Sibley.  "  Sue 
Graham  is  a  good,  sensible  girl  and  not  a  bit 
afraid  of  hard  work.  Her  head  is  not  filled 
with  a  collection  of  silly  notions  and  she  is 
ready  to  take  her  share  of  the  struggle  that  is 
ahead  of  them.  Lilt  could  not  have  chosen  a 
better  girl  for  a  wife.  Lilt  is  a  good  fellow  and 
232 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

will  make  her  a  good  husband.  I  think  he  is  the 
luckiest  man  in  the  county." 

"  I  don't." 

Sibley  looked  at  Newton  over  her  shoulder. 

"You  don't?     Why  not?" 

"  Because  there  is  still  a  luckier  one." 

"Who?" 

Newton  felt  a  lump  creeping  up  in  his  throat. 
There  was  a  tremulous  feeling  about  his  heart. 

"  Abner  Hawkins." 

Sibley  was  just  wiping  a  great  platter.  Per 
haps  the  soap-suds  made  it  slippery.  It  fell 
from  her  hands  and  crashed  on  the  floor.  She 
stood  looking  down  at  it  while  the  hot  blood 
rushed  into  her  face.  Her  head  swam.  She 
bit  her  lips.  Newton  continued  looking  out 
the  window.  A  mist  had  come  before  his  eyes. 
Lilt  was  driving  down  the  lane.  Newton  saw 
him  indistinctly.  He  was  wondering  what 
made  Sibley  drop  the  platter.  He  did  not  dare 
look  around.  Sibley  groped  for  a  broom  and 
swept  up  the  pieces.  Then  she  went  on  with 
her  dishes. 

233 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

For  half  an  hour  Newton  continued  to  gaze 
out  the  window.  The  sun  was  shining  in  on 
him.  The  summer  was  gone.  The  autumn 
had  robbed  the  sunbeams  of  their  power.  The 
leaves  were  falling  from  the  trees.  They 
rustled  about  on  the  ground  and  were  swirled 
up  in  eddies  by  the  breeze.  The  wind  had  a 
mourning  note  in  its  voice  as  it  sighed  through 
the  branches  of  the  walnut  trees  as  though  it 
was  singing  a  requiem  to  the  green  fields,  which 
were  slowly  dying  away  in  blotches  of  yellow 
stubble.  The  musical  rustle  of  the  corn  had 
changed  to  a  dry  rattle  and  he  could  hear  the 
cows  crashing  through  the  stalks.  The  wheat 
fields  no  longer  whispered  love  songs  to  the 
breeze.  A  thrasher  roared  its  varying  notes 
somewhere  in  the  distance.  It  was  so  far 
away  that  when  the  sparrows,  quarrelling  over 
the  crumbs  in  the  yard,  chirped  a  little  more 
shrilly  than  usual,  the  sound  was  drowned. 

Newton  turned  away  from  the  window.  Sib- 
ley  had  finished  the  dishes  and  was  just  hang 
ing  the  towel  on  a  line  behind  the  stove.  New- 
234 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ton  watched  her  while  she  swept  up  the  floor, 
pushed  the  chairs  back  in  their  places,  put  a 
touch  here,  straightened  a  picture  there  and 
then — rolled  down  her  sleeves. 

"  What  next,  Busy-body?  "  he  asked. 

"  Mending,  Impudence,"  she  returned,  la 
conically.  She  brought  out  a  great  basket 
rilled  with  stockings  and  began  work  upon  a 
coarse  sock  of  Lilt's." 

"  If  hearts  could  be  mended  as  easily  as 
stockings  what  a  pleasant  world  this  would  be," 
Newton  said  dreamily  as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  Time  is  a  good  darner,"  she  answered 
carelessly. 

"  Yes,  they  say  so,"  he  returned.  "  But  his 
basket  is  so  full  and  some  of  the  rents  so  large 
that  many  perish  before  he  gets  to  them." 

Sibley  looked  seriously  at  the  hole  she  had 
begun  on. 

"  I  don't  think  it  will  pay  to  mend  that,  the 
hole  is  too  large,"  she  said,  putting  a  pretty 
ringer  through  it. 

"That's  what  Time  says  about  some  of  the 

235 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

holes  he  comes  across  in  his  basket,"  Newton 
replied.    "  So  he  leaves  the  holes." 

"  I  wish  that  Lilt  would  take  his  socks  off 
before  he  ruins  them,"  Sibley  said  in  an  attempt 
to  turn  the  conversation  into  more  practical 
channels.  She  was  a  little  afraid  of  the  direc 
tion  in  which  the  present  one  was  tending. 

"  It's  also  too  bad  that  hearts  are  not  taken 
out  of  danger  before  the  holes  in  them  become 
irreparable/'  said  Newton. 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,"  she  replied,  taking  up 
a  white  stocking  of  her  mother's,  "  That  some 
persons  are  compelled  by  circumstances  to  keep 
their  hearts  where  they  are  sure  to  be  torn,  and 
what  is  worse  find  themselves  tearing  the  rents 
larger  with  their  own  fingers." 

Newton  looked  at  her  narrowly,  but  he  could 
not  see  her  face  very  well.  She  was  gazing  at 
a  small  hole  in  the  toe  of  her  mother's  stocking 
and  seemed  absorbed  in  its  contemplation.  He 
looked  out  the  window  again. 

"  I  suppose  I  owe  you  an  apology,"  he  said 
turning  abruptly  toward  her. 

"  You  suppose  you  do  ?  " 
236 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Yes,  I'm  not  quite  sure  whether  I  do  or 
not.  Do  I?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  do,"  she  returned.  "  For 
trying  to  flatter  me." 

"  Not  having  done  that  or  even  tried  to  I  can 
not  apologise  for  it.  You  know  to  what  I  am 
referring." 

She  did  not  reply  but  continued  with  her 
darning. 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"Well?"  she  returned. 

"Am  I  to  apologise?" 

"Do  you  want  to?" 

"  No,  not  at  all." 

"  Then  your  apology  would  not  amount  to 
much." 

"  It  would  amount  to  as  much  as  most  apolo 
gies  do." 

"  Then  I  do  not  care  for  it." 

He  studied  for  a  few  moments. 

"  I  should  not  have  said  what  I  did,"  he  said 
slowly.  "  I  was  piqued.  I  forget  that — that 
he  was  to  be  your  husband." 

A  tremor  ran  over  Sibley.  Newton  was  not 
237 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

looking  at  her  so  he  did  not  see  it.  He  waited 
for  her  to  reply  but  she  was  silent.  He  stole  a 
glance  at  her.  She  was  still  looking  at  the 
hole  in  her  mother's  stocking. 

"Well,"  he  said  after  a  moment.  "Are 
you  going  to  accept  my  apology?  " 

"  Y-yes,"  she  stammered. 

"Am  I  forgiven?" 

She  wanted  to  look  up  at  him.  She  wanted 
to  rush  over  to  him  and  put  her  arms  around 
his  neck  and  tell  him  that  she  had  nothing  for 
which  to  forgive  him;  that  his  words  instead 
of  hurting  her  had  rilled  her  with  a  wild  pleas 
ure  that  had  almost  overpowered  her.  A  great 
lump  came  in  her  throat.  She  tried  to  choke 
it  down.  She  looked  at  the  hole  in  the  stocking 
but  she  could  not  see  it.  She  bent  her  head 
further  down  and  further.  The  lump  kept 
rising  in  her  throat.  Her  eyes  were  swim 
ming.  Two  great  tears  fell  in  her  lap.  She 
winked  her  eyes  hard  to  keep  them  back,  but 
they  kept  coming  faster.  She  wondered  how 
she  could  hide  them.  Some  one  caught  her 

238 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

hand,  and  she  felt  an  arm  on  her  shoulder.  She 
heard  Newton's  voice. 

"  Sibley,"  he  cried,  "  Forgive  me  for  hurting 
you  so.  I  did  not  think  what  I  was  doing.  I 
was  thinking  only  of  myself.  You  love  him 
and  I  should  not  talk  as  I  do." 

He  felt  a  shudder  run  over  her. 

"  I  ought  not  to  hate  him  so,"  he  continued, 
"  But  I  can't  help  it.  It  all  seems  wrong  to  me 
and  it  makes  me  forget  myself." 

She  pushed  him  away  from  her. 

"  Your  wound !  Your  wound !  "  she  cried 
anxiously.  "  Get  back  into  your  chair.  I  am 
afraid  you  will  open  it.  Get  back.  Please  do." 

Newton  held  his  place. 

"  Never  mind  that  wound,  now,"  Newton 
said.  "  I  have  one  that  hurts  me  more.  Your 
tears  made  me  forget  this  cut  in  my  side  and 
remember  the  one  in  my  heart." 

She  put  her  head  down  in  her  hands. 

"  Forgive  me,  Sibley,"  he  cried.  "  I  am 
going  away  just  as  soon  as  I  am  strong  enough 
to  walk.  To-morrow,  perhaps,  and  I  will  never 
239 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

trouble  you  again.  But  I  want  you  to  say  that 
you  forgive  me  before  I  go." 

"  Yes ;  yes !  "  she  cried.  "  Go  away,  now, 
now.  No  not  now,  but  when  you  are  strong. 
You  will  make  me  forget  myself.  I  must  not 
do  that.  No,  I  must  not  do  that.  Whatever 
happens  I  must  not  do  that." 

She  was  sobbing.  Newton  looked  down  at 
her  helplessly.  Her  words  were  so  incoherent 
that  he  scarcely  understood  them.  But  he  knew 
she  wanted  him  to  go  away.  He  felt  a  numb 
ness  all  over  him.  The  wind  rose  and  seemed  to 
be  adding  its  wails  to  hers. 

"  I'll  go  to-morrow,  Sibley,"  he  said  after  a 
moment.  "  I  could  not  stay  another  day.  I  am 
sorry  to  have  hurt  you  as  I  have  done.  It  ill 
repaid  the  kindnesses  you  have  shown  me.  I 
forgot  myself  when  I  did  it.  Perhaps  when  you 
are  married  and  the  sound  of  childish  voices 
calling  you  mother  has  softened  your  heart 
you  will  forgive  me.  I  wish  I  could  do  some 
thing  to  repair  the  hurt.  I  will  do  what  little  I 
can  by  going  away.  I  have  been  very  happy 
240 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

here.  These  few  months  have  been  the  happiest 
I  have  ever  known.  But  I  have  found  that 
happiness  never  lasts  long.  It  always  precedes 
a  new  sorrow." 

Sibley  sprang  to  her  feet  and  rushed  to  her 
room.  She  did  not  even  trust  herself  to  look  at 
him.  Newton  sat  down  again  and  gazed  va 
cantly  out  of  the  window. 


241 


Chapter  XVI 

A  RAINY  Saturday.  The  water  poured 
down  in  sheets.  The  wind  dashed 
it  against  the  windows  as  though  it 
would  hurl  it  through  the  panes.  The  drops 
roared  on  the  roof  and  pounded  on  the  doors. 
Newton  was  sitting  by  the  kitchen  window 
gazing  disconsolately  out  across  the  fields. 
They  seemed  to  be  dancing  before  his  eyes. 
The  rain  was  slowly  converting  them  into 
swamps.  A  be-draggled  chicken  perched  mood 
ily  on  the  woodpile  beneath  a  tree.  Now  and 
then  it  would  gingerly  rise  up,  give  its  feathers 
a  timid  flutter  and  settle  down  again. 

Newton  kept  his  eyes  bent  out  over  the  fields. 
He  was  trying  to  master  himself  for  an  ordeal. 
He  had  promised  to  go  away  that  day.  He 
intended  to  keep  his  promise.  The  nearer  the 
time  came  for  him  to  announce  his  departure 
the  harder  he  found  it  was  going  to  be,  even 
though  he  knew  that  Sibley  wished  it.  He 
wondered  why  that  did  not  make  it  easy.  How 
242 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

dreary  it  looked  outside  and  he  must  go  out 
into  it.  To-morrow  the  sun  might  shine,  but 
not  for  him.  He  would  then  be  far  beyond  the 
influence  of  his  sun,  Sibley.  He  drummed  on 
the  window  pane  and  watched  the  chicken. 

Ridgeby  was  sitting  by  the  kitchen  window 
diligently  figuring  on  the  edges  of  old  news 
papers.  A  frayed  blank  book  was  open  before 
him.  He  held  the  worn  stub  of  a  pencil  in  his 
stiff  fingers  and  he  bobbed  his  head  with  every 
rude  figure  he  made,  stopping  every  now  and 
then  to  wet  the  lead  on  his  tongue.  There  was 
a  worried  look  on  his  face  that  deepened  as  he 
continued  his  calculations.  At  times  his  face 
would  lighten  for  a  moment  and  he  would  move 
the  pencil  rapidly,  then  it  would  darken  again 
and  he  would  put  down  the  figures  slowly,  as 
though  he  dreaded  to  see  the  result.  At  times 
he  would  stop  figuring  for  a  moment  and  gaze 
gloomily  at  the  wall.  Then  he  would  shake 
his  head  and  sigh. 

Sibley  was  sitting  near  him  with  a  book  in 
her  hand.  She  pretended  to  be  reading,  but 
243 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

for  half  an  hour  she  had  not  turned  a  page. 
There  was  a  tense  expression  on  her  face  and  a 
suspicious  redness  about  her  eyes  that  sug 
gested  weeping.  She  watched  her  father 
closely.  She  seemed  distressed,  as  though  some 
load  that  he  was  carrying  was  resting  heavily 
upon  her  shoulders  as  well.  Now  and  then  she 
would  glance  over  to  where  Newton  was  look 
ing  out  the  window.  Then  the  expression  on 
her  face  would  change  to  one  of  beseeching. 
She  would  catch  her  breath  and  look  back  at 
Ridgeby. 

Her  mother  was  sitting  in  the  low  rocking 
chair  by  the  stove  mending  a  pair  of  overalls. 
She  would  at  times  glance  with  a  worried  ex 
pression  at  Ridgeby.  Reuben  had  spread  a  red 
handkerchief  over  his  bald  pate  and  gone  to 
sleep.  He  was  giving  utterance  to  low  snores 
to  which  no  one  paid  any  attention.  Lilt  was 
out  in  the  barn  washing  a  harness. 

"  Six  un  six's  twelve,  carry  one.     Six  un 
six's  twelve  an'  one's  thirteen,  carry  one.  Three 
un  two's  five  an'  one's  six,"  muttered  Ridgeby. 
Then  he  sighed  and  shook  his  head. 
244 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  can't  make  it  no  way,  Em'ly,"  he  said 
gloomily  without  looking  up.  "  I  don't  see  no 
way  out." 

His  wife  sighed. 

"  Well,  don't  worry  none,  Hiram,"  she  said. 
"  Th'  Lord's  tuk  care  of  us  fer  quite  a  spell  an' 
I  don't  b'lieve  He's  goin'  back  on  us  jes'  yet. 
We've  seen  some  pretty  dark  places  'fore  now, 
Hiram,  but  He  allus  tuk  us  through  somehow, 
an'  I  calculate  th'  Lord'll  provide  this  time. 
We  done  th'  bes'  we  cud  an'  ef  it's  His  will  t' 
bring  trouble  on  us  we  hadn't  ought  t'  com 
plain  none." 

Ridgeby  shook  his  head  dubiously. 

"  We  haint  never  had  a  man  like  ole  George 
Hawkins  t'  deal  with  'fore  this.  He'd  give  his 
eyes  fer  this  farm  an'  I  guess  he's  goin'  t'  get 
it." 

His  voice  was  hopeless.  The  intense  look  on 
Sibley's  face  deepened.  She  looked  toward  the 
floor. 

"  Won't  he  give  us  a  little  more  time, 
Hiram?"  asked  his  wife.  "  Seems  like  he 
orter." 

245 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Don't  believe  we'd  better  hope  fer  nahthin' 
like  that,"  Ridgeby  sighed.  "  'Tain't  Haw- 
kins'  way  t'  be  easy  with  people.  It's  our  only 
chance,  though.  I've  figgered  every  way." 

He  turned  to  the  table  and  went  to  work 
again. 

"  Seven  fr'm  ten's  three.  Four  fr'm  nine's 
five " 

Newton  turned  suddenly  around  from  the 
window. 

"  I  have  one  more  favour  to  ask  of  you, 
Ridgeby,"  he  said  quietly.  "  It  will  be  the  last, 
I  hope." 

"  Two  t'ms  six's  twelve.  Two  t'ms  one's 

two  an'  one's  three.  Two  t'ms  five Huh! 

What's  that?" 

"  I  said  that  I  had  a  last  favour  to  ask  of 
you,"  Newton  repeated. 

The  pucker  came  out  of  the  old  man's  fore 
head.  His  rugged  face  cleared  in  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  favour.     Course.    Fire  away." 

"  I  must  leave  here  this  afternoon  and  wish 
to  ask  Lilt  to  drive  me  down  to  the  village.  It 
246 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

is  raining  so  hard  that  I  am  afraid  to  risk  the 
walk,  besides,  I  am  scarcely  strong  enough  for 
it." 

Newton  said  the  words  calmly.  In  fact,  his 
tone  was  one  of  unconcern,  but  there  was  a 
tumult  in  his  heart  which  he  feared  would  break 
out. 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  Ridgeby's  pencil 
stopped  poised  in  the  air.  His  wife  looked  up 
from  her  mending  in  astonishment.  Reuben 
pulled  the  handkerchief  from  his  head  and 
gaped  at  him.  Sibley's  cheeks  turned  a  shade 
paler  and  she  kept  looking  toward  the  floor. 

"  May  he  drive  me  down?  "  Newton  asked. 

Ridgeby  partially  recovered  himself. 

"Why,  what  d'yeh  mean?" 

"  What  I  said,"  Newton  returned.  "  I  am 
going  to  quit,  throw  up  my  job,  going  away." 

"  Coin'  away  ?  "  Ridgeby  gasped.  "  Why, 
what's  got  int'  yeh?" 

Newton  looked  out  the  window  again. 

"  Something  has  arisen  that  takes  me  away," 
he  said  slowly,  "  And  that  this  afternoon.     I 
247 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

should  have  gone  this  morning  but  I  was  in 
hopes  that  the  rain  would  stop.  It  hasn't,  so 
I  must  go  as  it  is." 

"Well,  I  swan!"  exclaimed  Ridgeby. 
"  Where  yehgoin'?" 

"  The  same  place  I  came  from." 

"  The  same  place  yeh  came  from,  where's 
that?"  asked  Mrs.  Ridgeby,  who  had  just  re 
covered  her  breath. 

"  Nowhere." 

Newton  spoke  dolefully.  He  stole  a  glance 
at  Sibley.  She  was  still  gazing  toward  the 
floor. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  croaked  Reuben, 
"  Yeh'd  go  t'  th'  'sylum.  There  mus'  be  some- 
pin  wrong  in  yer  upper  story  an'  I  know  it. 
I've  been  suspicious  'at  yeh  'uz  crazy  ever  since 
yeh  come.  There  don't  no  sane  man  act  th' 
way  you  do." 

Newton  smiled  gloomily. 

"  Sane  or  not,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going  away." 

"When  're  yeh  comin'  back?"  Ridgeby 
asked,  puzzled. 

248 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Never." 

Again  Newton  looked  at  Sibley.  She  had 
not  taken  her  eyes  from  the  floor. 

"  Now  I  want  t'  know  what  this  means," 
Ridgeby  said,  decidedly.  "  Here  all  of  a  sud- 
dint,  like  a  clap  o'  thunder,  'thout  givin'  no 
body  no  warnin'  yeh  hop  up  here  an'  tell  us 
yeh're  goin'  away.  Ef  that  haint  th'  queerest 
doin's  I  ever  see." 

"  An'  you  jes'  out  o'  bed,"  buzzed  his  wife. 

"  Better  take  my  advice  an'  go  t'  th'  'sylum," 
Reuben  wheezed. 

Sibley  still  looked  at  the  floor.  Newton 
gazed  out  the  window. 

"  Yeh'll  ketch  yer  death  in  th'  rain,"  said 
Mrs.  Ridgeby. 

"What's  th'  matter?"  Ridgeby  asked. 

"  Nothing." 

"  You  are  the  queerest  feller  I  ever  see,"  the 
old  man  exclaimed  in  exasperation.  "  An'  th' 
queerest  feller  I  ever  expect  t'  see.  Yeh're  a 
whole  bundle  of  mysteries." 

"  He  ought  t'  go  t'  th'  'sylum,"  piped  Reuben. 
249 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Yeh're  jes'  like  th'  ghost  in  the  story  book. 
Nobody  knows  where  yeh  come  from,  yeh  don't 
say  nahthin'  'bout  who  yeh  are  ner  who  yer 
folks  be,  ner  nahthin',  work  here  fer  a  while, 
get  hurt,  then  'fore  yer  half  well  get  up  an' 
say  yeh're  goin'  away,  an'  when  we  ask  yeh 
where  yeh're  goin'  yeh  say  nowhere." 

"  The  work  for  the  autumn  is  just  about 
over,"  Newton  replied.  "  So  I  can  be  of  but 
very  little  help  to  you,  not  enough  at  any  rate 
to  pay  for  the  trouble  my  further  stay  would 
cause,  therefore  I  think  it  best  for  me  to  go. 
When  I  decide  to  do  a  thing  I  always  do  it  at 
once,  that  is  why  I  am  going  this  afternoon. 
I  already  owe  you  a  greater  debt  than  I  shall 
ever  be  able  to  repay  and  it  is  not  right  for  me 
to  make  the  debt  larger." 

"  Fiddlesticks !  "  exclaimed  Ridgeby. 

"  'Sylum,"  wheezed  Reuben. 

"  My  Ian',"  said  Mrs.  Ridgeby. 

Sibley  sighed. 

"  So  I  want  you  to  allow  Lilt  to  take  me 
down  to  the  village." 

250 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Ridgeby  turned  back  to  the  table. 

"  Yeh  dori't  go  a  step  out  o'  this  house  t' 
night,"  he  said  firmly. 

"  Not  a  step,"  repeated  his  wife. 

"  'Cept  'tis  t'  th'  'sylum,"  Reuben  cackled. 

"  When  yeh're  decently  well  course  yeh  can 
go  ef  yeh  want,  but  till  then  yeh  stay  right 
here." 

"  Well,  I  see  that  you  do  not  know  me," 
Newton  said,  getting  up.  "  I  am  going  this 
afternoon  even  if  I  have  to  walk." 

Ridgeby  got  up  from  his  chair.  Newton  had 
never  seen  him  look  so  before.  The  gentle  ex 
pression  that  usually  sat  upon  his  features  gave 
place  to  one  of  intense  firmness.  A  pucker 
came  in  his  forehead.  His  lips  were  pressed 
tightly  together. 

"  Sit  down  there,"  he  thundered.  "  I  told 
yeh  that  yeh  didn't  go  out  o'  this  house  t'night 
an'  when  I  say  a  thing  I  mean  it.  I  don't  care 
what's  th'  matter  ner  nahthin'.  Yeh're  goin  t' 
stay  here  till  yeh  get  sommers  near  well  ef  we 
have  t'  tie  yeh  down  in  bed  t'  hold  yeh.  I  hain't 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

goin'  t'  be  responsible  fer  yeh're  murder  an' 
that's  jes'  what  it  means  t'  let  yeh  go  out  o'  th' 
house  fer  two  weeks  yet.  So  yeh  might  uz 
well  make  yeh're  mind  up  t'  that  right  now." 

He  looked  around  the  room.  His  eyes  fell 
upon  Sibley.  He  looked  from  her  to  Newton. 
Both  seemed  confused. 

"  Sibley,"  he  asked  sharply,  "  What's  this 
mean?  What  hev  yeh  been  doin'  t'  Newton. 
There's  somepin  wrong  here  an'  I  want  t'  know 
what  it  is.  This  's  my  house  an'  I  intend  t' 
know  what's  goin'  on  inside  it." 

The  old  man  gave  a  start.  He  straightened 
up.  The  twists  that  years  of  toil  had  tied  in 
his  back  suddenly  went  out.  He  stopped  stock 
still.  His  eyebrows  drew  down.  His  breath 
came  heavily.  An  expression  fairly  fierce 
came  over  his  face.  An  awful  suspicion  had 
flashed  into  his  mind.  It  was  fanned  into  a 
flame  and  blazed  forth  and  overpowered  him. 

"  Tell  me  what  this  means,"  he  cried,  strid 
ing  towards  Newton.  "  I'm  suspicious  some- 
pin's  wrong  here  an'  it  makes  me  afraid.  Tell 
252 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

me  what  it  is  'fore  I  ferget  myself.  Tell  me 
what  it  is  or  by  th'  Eternal  I'll  forget  your 
condition  an'  make  mince  meat  of  yeh.  What 
hev  yeh  been  doin'  t'  my  girl  ?  " 

His  voice  grew  in  strength  and  ended  almost 
in  a  shriek.  Sibley  was  trembling.  She  looked 
at  her  father  in  a  helpless  fashion.  Her  heart 
was  in  her  mouth.  Every  particle  of  strength 
seemed  to  have  left  her.  Newton  was  taken  so 
completely  by  surprise  that  he  did  not  know 
how  to  answer. 

"What  hev  yeh  been  doin'  t'  my  girl?" 
Ridgeby  thundered  again. 

"  Nothing/'  stammered  Newton. 

"Nahthin'!  Nahthin' !  "  shouted  Ridgeby 
striding  excitedly  up  and  down  the  room. 
"That's  all  I've  hearn  sence  I  met  yeh, 
nahthin'  an'  nowhere.  I  might  a  known  yeh 
want  right  fr'm  th'  way  yeh  acted.  Yeh  al 
ways  acted  uz  though  yeh  had  done  somepin 
yeh  wuz  ashamed  of.  Tell  me  what  yeh've 
been  a  doin'  t'  my  girl." 

Thoughts  flew  fast  through  Newton's  brain. 
253 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  thought  of  no  explanation  which  he  could 
offer  except  to  tell  the  truth  and  that  did  not 
seem  right  towards  Sibley.  He  looked  over  at 
her.  She  was  still  looking  at  the  floor. 

Ridgeby  was  beside  himself.  Newton's 
silence  caused  the  suspicion  in  his  mind  to  flash 
until  it  maddened  him.  He  did  not  know  what 
he  was  doing.  The  room  was  whirling.  He 
thought  he  saw  Newton  cringing  before  him. 
He  raised  his  fist  and  struck  wildly  out.  There 
was  a  mad  whirring  in  his  head,  then  the  mist 
cleared  from  his  brain.  He  gazed  vacantly  at 
the  floor.  Newton  was  lying  there  still  with 
his  eyes  shut.  Sibley  was  on  her  knees  by  his 
side  stroking  his  forehead  and  calling  to  him. 
He  saw  her  white  and  frightened  face.  He 
sank  back  into  a  chair. 

"  Hiram  Ridgeby,  what  hev  yeh  done  ?  " 
his  wife  cried,  springing  up. 

"  Ef  yeh'd  take  my  advice,"  whimpered 
Reuben. 

Lilt  opened  the  door  and  halted  on  the 
threshold. 

254 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Why,  what "  he  stammered. 

"  Help  me,  Lilt,"  Sibley  cried,  from  the  floor. 

"  Why,  what "  he  stammered  again. 

"  Never  mind  what/'  Sibley  cried.  "  Help 
me  get  Newton  up  on  the  bed.  I'm  afraid  he's 
killed.  Mother,  get  water.  Out  of  the  way, 
Reuben." 

Lilt  picked  Newton  up  and  carrying  him  into 
his  room  laid  him  on  the  bed.  Blood  was  dye 
ing  his  clothing.  His  wound  had  opened  again. 


255 


Chapter  XVII 

SIBLEY   made    herself   mistress   of   the 
house.     All  the  latent  forces  of  her  na 
ture     suddenly     manifested     themselves 
and  the  others,  overborne  by  her  spirit,  gave 
the  reins  into  her  hands  and  did  her  bidding. 
Ridgeby  walked  about  the  kitchen  in  a  state  of 
bewilderment.       He     scarcely     comprehended 
what   had   happened.       He   tried   to   study   it 
out. 

When  Newton  came  somewhat  to  himself 
Sibley  shut  every  one  else  out  of  the  room  and 
sitting  down  by  the  side  of  the  bed  began  to 
stroke  his  forehead.  He  partly  regained  con 
sciousness,  looked  at  her  vacantly,  then  sank 
into  a  half  stupor.  The  physician  for  whom 
Lilt  had  been  sent  arrived  at  last.  Ridgeby  did 
not  take  his  eyes  from  the  closed  door  of  New 
ton's  room  from  the  time  the  doctor  entered  it 
until  he  came  out.  Ridgeby  followed  him  into 
the  yard. 

"Is  he  hurt?"  he  asked. 
256 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  The  cut  in  his  side  has  opened  again. 
How  did  he  fall?" 

"Oh,  befell,  did  he?" 

"  Why  yes.  That's  what  your  daughter  says/' 

Ridgeby  stood  nodding  his  head. 

"  He  fell.  Is  he  going  t'  die?  "  The  voice 
was  mechanical. 

"  I  think  not.  He  will  be  a  long  time  getting 
well  but  unless  something  unexpected  happens 
he  ought  to  pull  through." 

"  I  haint  killed  him  then?  "  Ridgeby 's  voice 
was  still  mechanical  as  though  he  did  not  com 
prehend  what  he  was  saying.  The  doctor  stared 
at  him. 

"What?" 

"  I  say  I  haint  killed  him  then?  " 

"Killed  him.  What  do  you  mean?"  the 
doctor  exclaimed.  "  I  thought  he  fell." 

"  Oh  yes.     He  fell.    He  fell.     Oh  yes." 

Ridgeby    turned    and   walked   back    to    the 

house.     The  doctor  shook  his  head  and  drove 

down  the  lane.     When  Ridgeby  got  back  into 

the  kitchen  he  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  gazed 

257 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

vacantly  at  Newton's  door  until  nine  o'clock, 
then  he  got  up  and  went  to  bed.  Lilt  slept  that 
night  on  a  blanket  by  the  door.  Sibley  found 
him  there  when  she  opened  the  door  in  the 
morning.  Her  eyes  were  red  and  dry.  There 
was  a  hectic  flush  on  her  cheeks. 

"  Have  you  been  there  all  night,  Lilt?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes'm,"  Lilt  answered.  '  I  thought  per 
haps  yeh  might  want  somepin  and  ther  ought 
t'  be  somebody  handy,  so  I  thought  I'd  jes' 
slump  down  front  o'  th'  door.  How  is  'e?  " 

"  He  did  not  come  out  of  the  stupor  during 
the  night."  Sibley's  lip  trembled.  "I  am 
afraid  he  is  going  to  die.  The  doctor  wouldn't 
promise  much.  What  did  he  tell  father?" 

"  Dunno.  Ridgeby  went  out  in  th'  yard 
with  him.  We  couldn't  get  nahthin'  out  o'  him 
when  he  come  back.  He  jes'  sot  an'  stared  at 
th'  door  like  he  wuz  tryin'  t'  look  a  hole 
through  it.  He  seemed  kind  o'  vacant  like. 
What's  th'  matter  with  'im  anyway?" 

Sibley  turned  her  head  away. 

258 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

"  What  'uz  th'  trouble,  anyhow,  Miss  Sib- 
ley  ?  "  Lilt  asked  after  a  pause.  "  Seems  like 
somepin  must  be  wrong.  How'd  Newton  get 
hurt?" 

"  He  fell,"  Sibley  answered  laconically. 

Lilt  pulled  at  his  hair  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Say  Miss  Sibley/'  he  said  after  a  moment, 
"  Yeh  go  t'  bed  an'  get  some  sleep  an'  lemme 
watch  him  jes'  's  soon  uz  I  milk.  Yeh're  nigh 
beat  out  an'  '11  be  dyin',  too,  'fore  long.  I  de 
clare  ef  taint  most  worth  bein'  sick  for  t'  have 
you  take  care  of  a  feller." 

Sibley  smiled  the  wanest  kind  of  a  smile. 

"  I  couldn't  sleep,  Lilt,"  she  answered. 

He  looked  at  her  narrowly.  Then  he 
scratched  his  head. 

"  This  here's  th'  most  mixed  up  mess  I  ever 
see.  I  can't  make  head  ner  tail  out  of  it.  I 
hope  things  get  straightened  out  someway,  but 
they're  mightily  snarled  jes'  now.  But  yeh'll  go 
t'  sleep  after  I  milk,  now  won't  yeh.  Yeh'll  let 
me  do  that  much  fer  yeh?" 
259 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Well  I'll  try  it,  Lilt,"  Sibley  answered. 
Then  she  paused  a  moment.  Twice  she  started 
to  speak,  then  checked  herself.  Then  she  spoke 
suddenly.  "  There  is  one  thing  that  you  can 
do  for  me,  Lilt,  something  that  you  must  do 
and  make  sure  of.  That  is  to  stop  Reuben's 
tongue.  Fix  him  some  way  so  that  he  will  never 
open  his  mouth  concerning  what  happened  last 
night.  The  truth  is,  Lilt,  that  things  are  as 
you  say,  terribly  mixed  " — Sibley  sighed  and 
looked  toward  the  floor — "  Something  came 
up  which  made  it  seem  best  to  both  Newton 
and  me  that  he  should  go  away.  He  for  one 
reason — and  I — for  another.  Father  was  very 
much  worried  about  maitters  yesterday  and  was 
not  himself  at  all.  Newton's  announcement  of 
his  departure  angered  him.  This,  coupled  with 
Newton's  reticence  concerning  himself  ever 
since  he  has  been  here  made  father  suspicious 
that  something  was  wrong  and  he  suddenly 
became  almost  insane.  Newton  did  not  fall. 
I  lied  about  that.  Father  struck  him  a  terrible 
blow  full  in  the  face  and  knocked  him  down.  I 
am  afraid  he  has  killed  him." 
260 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Sibley  spoke  rapidly,  almost  incoherently.  A 
shadow  swept  over  Lilt's  face.  He  clenched 
his  fists. 

"  Ther  haint  nahthin'  wrong  be  there/'  he 
asked  savagely.  "  Ef  I  thought  there  was  I'd 
strike  him  again." 

Sibley  caught  at  his  arm. 

"  Nothing,  Lilt.  It  was  only  a  suspicion  that 
flashed  in  father's  mind  without  the  slightest 
foundation." 

Lilt's  face  cleared. 

"  Reuben  must  be  kept  still,"  continued  Sib 
ley.  "  He  will  have  it  all  over  the  county  in 
side  of  three  days,  and  then  there  will  be  no 
stopping  it,  and  you  know  how  a  story  grows." 

Lilt  nodded  his  head. 

"  I'll  do  th'  bes'  I  can,  Miss  Sibley.  Reu 
ben's  got  a  tongue  a  mile  long  an'  when  it  once 
gets  t'  cacklin'  there's  no  stoppin'  it.  I'll  go  out 
an'  do  up  th'  chores  an'  get  back  uz  soon  uz  I 
can."  He  caught  up  the  milk  pails  and  hurried 
out. 

A  moment  later  Ridgeby  came   down  the 
stairs.    Sibley  was  just  disappearing  into  New- 
261 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ton's  room.  He  called  to  her.  She  looked 
back.  He  held  out  his  arms  and  called  again. 
She  glanced  at  Newton,  then  went  up  to  her 
father.  He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  drew 
her  head  down  on  his  shoulder.  Tears  came 
into  the  old  man's  eyes  and  his  voice  was  so 
choked  he  could  scarcely  speak. 

"  Somepin's  wrong  Sibley,  somepin's  wrong," 
he  cried.  "  I  can't  see  someway  jes'  where  'tis 
but  I  know  things  aint  right.  I  haint  myself 
someway.  I  didn't  know  what  I's  doin'  las' 
night.  I  got  an  idea  in  my  head  he'd  wronged 
yeh,  Sibley,  an'  it  made  me  crazy.  Taint  so 
is  it?  'Taint  so?" 

Sibley  was  weeping.  He  pressed  his  rough, 
work-cracked  hands  on  her  head. 

"  Tell  me  'taint  so,  Sibley." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  How  could  you  do  it,  father.  How  could 
you  do  it?  I  thought  you  had  killed  him.  He 
may  die  yet.  He  had  done  nothing,  father, 
nothing."  She  was  almost  hysterical. 

The  tears  crept  faster  down  Ridgeby's 
rugged  cheeks. 

262 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  didn't  know  what  I  wuz  doin',"  he  said 
hoarsely.  "  It  seems  like  a  dream  now.  Did 
I  strike  him?  But  he  acted  so  strange.  What 
'uz  it  all  about?  Can't  yeh  tell  yer  old  pa  all 
about  it.  There's  somepin  wrong  an'  I  want 
yeh  t'  tell  me  what  'tis." 

Sibley  with  an  effort  regained  control  of 
herself. 

"  There  is  nothing  wrong,  father.  I  am  all 
worn  out  and  can't  talk.  Wait  until  I  have 
rested  and  then  perhaps  we  can  straighten  it 
out.  But  don't  think  there  is  anything  wrong, 
for  there  is  not." 

Sibley  broke  away  from  her  father  with  a 
kiss  and  went  back  to  Newton.  Ridgeby 
stumbled  out  to  the  barn.  After  breakfast  Lilt 
took  Sibley's  place  at  Newton's  side,  but  she 
only  stayed  away  for  two  hours.  By  ten  o'clock 
she  was  back  again.  An  hour  later  Newton 
roused  up,  looked  about  him  for  a  moment 
and  then  sank  into  a  quiet  sleep.  Sibley 
gave  a  quick  sigh  of  relief.  She  watched 
him  for  a  moment  then  went  out  into  the 
kitchen. 

263 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  The  danger  is  passed,"  she  said.  "  He  will 
live." 

All  the  morning  Ridgeby  had  been  walking 
nervously  about  the  room.  When  he  heard  Sib- 
ley's  whispered  words  he  caught  up  his  hat  and 
went  out. 

A  little  after  dinner  Abner  Hawkins  came  in. 
His  coarse  voice  broke  rudely  into  the  stillness. 
It  awoke  Newton.  He  recognized  the  voice  at 
once  and  obeying  some  sudden  impulse  he  did 
not  open  his  eyes.  Sibley  tip-toed  to  the  door. 

"Sh!"  she  whispered.  "You  will  wake 
him." 

"  Wake  who  ?  "  roared  Abner. 

"  Newton  Mills." 

"  Oh,  that  feller.  Well  wake  and  be  damned 
I  don't  care.  Come  out  here  I  want  t'  see  yeh." 

"  Please  keep  still,"  she  whispered. 

"  Come  here,"  he  called  rudely. 

She  went  up  to  him.  He  caught  her  roughly 
in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  A  shudder  ran 
over  her  and  she  shrank  away  from  him.  New 
ton  opened  his  eyes  and  feebly  shook  his  fist 
at  the  wall. 

264 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Please  keep  still,  Abner,"  Sibley  pleaded, 
"  He  is  much  worse  and  may  be  dying." 

"  Seems  t'  me  yeh're  worryin'  'bout  him  a 
hull  lot,"  Abner  growled.  "  'Spose  he  do 
die.  He  haint  nahthin'  but  a  hired  hand  no 
how." 

Lilt  bristled  up.  He  put  a  big  fist  beneath 
Abner's  nose. 

"  Say,"  he  whispered  savagely,  "  Let  off  any 
more  o'  that  lip  o'  yourn  an'  I'll  throw  yeh  out 
th'  door." 

Sibley  was  trembling  from  hand  to  foot.  She 
gave  Lilt  a  glance  of  gratitude.  He  saw  it.  He 
caught  Abner  by  the  arm. 

"  I  haint  nahthin'  but  a  hired  han*  m'self 
but  I'm  a  little  better  thun  you  are  eny  day  in 
th'  week,  an'  Newt  Mills  is  worth  th'  two  of  us 
put  together,  three  times  over." 

Abner  shrank  back.     He  was  afraid  of  Lilt. 

"  I  want  thinkin'  none  'bout  you,"  he 
grumbled.  "  I  'uz  talkin'  'bout  tramps  like 
Newt." 

"  D'yeh  want  t'  go  out  th'  door?"  repeated 
Lilt.    "  Better  keep  mighty  mum." 
265 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"Where's  Ridgeby,"  Abner  growled,  sitting 
down  awkwardly  in  a  chair. 

Ridgeby  came  in  the  door  just  that  minute. 
Sibley  escaped  back  to  Newton.  He  continued 
to  feign  sleep. 

"  How'de  Ridgeby,"  was  Abner's  greeting. 

"  Hello  Abner.    How's  yer  pa  ?  " 

"  He's  pret'  well.  There  haint  never  nahthin' 
th'  matter  with  th'  ole  man  'cept  'tis  th'  rooma- 
tiz.  That  bothers  him  a  good  deal." 

"Begun  t'  thrash  yet?" 

"  Davidson's  comin'  t'morrer.  He  jes' 
finished  up  at  Thompson's,  Friday.  We'll  keep 
him  'bout  a  week  guess.  Got  th'  thrashin'  to  do 
on  th'  Simpkins'  place  yeh  know.  When  yeh 
goin'  t'  begin  ?  " 

"  Herrick's  comin'  over  week  after  nex',  I 
don't  like  Davidson  very  well." 

"Bout's  good's  anybody." 

"  Think  so.  Well  I'm  goin'  t'  change  any 
how." 

"  Better  stick  t'  Davidson,  he's  square." 

"  Yeh've  got  an  intrust  in  Davidson's  ma 
chine  haint  yeh  ?  "  Lilt  asked  slyly. 
266 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Abner  coloured. 

"Got  a  little,  jes'  t'  'com'date  Davidson 
though/'  he  stammered.  "  Course  don't  make 
no  diffrunce  t'  me  who  yeh  have,  only  I'd  see 
yeh  got  a  square  deal." 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  have  Davidson,"  said 
Ridgeby.  "  When  cud  he  come  over?  " 

"  Seein'  it's  you  I'll  have  him  come  over 
right  after  he  finishes  up  fer  us." 

"  Well  send  him  'long.  I'll  send  a  note  over 
t'  Herrick  t'morrer  tellin'  him  he  needn't 
come." 

"  Goin'  to  come  out  all  right  on  every 
thing?  "  Abner  asked  after  a  pause. 

Sibley  in  Newton's  room  raised  her  head  and 
listened. 

"  Don't  know,"  Ridgeby  answered  slowly. 
"  Things  don't  look  jes'  uz  bright  uz  they 
might.  Grain's  sellin'  s'  cheap  this  year  don't 
hardly  pay  t'  raise  it." 

"  Pa  uz  sayin'  yestiday  he  didn't  see  nahthin' 
in  farmin'  these  days." 

There  was  another  pause.    Abner  broke  it. 

"  Dad's  bought  'at  medder  Ian'  o'  Thomp- 
267 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

son's.  They've  been  dickerin'  fer  some  time. 
Thompson  'uz  holdin'  it  pretty  high,  but  he 
come  t'  dad's  terms.  It's  kinder  crippled  Pa, 
too." 

Sibley  sat  very  still  almost  holding  her 
breath.  There  was  another  pause. 

"  Oh  say,  Ridgeby,"  Abner  broke  out  sud 
denly,  "  Yeh  know  yeh're  mor'gage  is  due  on 
th'  twenty-fifth,  n'  this  is  th'  eighth.  Dad 
wanted  I  shud  ask  yeh  what  yeh  wuz  goin'  t' 
do  'bout  it.  He's  kinder  hard  up  an'  needs  a 
little  money." 

A  look  of  pain  swept  over  Sibley's  face.  She 
put  her  head  down  in  her  hands  and  gave  her 
self  up  to  listening. 

"  I  don't  know  jes'  yet  what  I'll  be  able  t'  do, 
Abner,"  Ridgeby  answered  slowly.  "  Things 
have  been  pretty  hard  with  me  lately." 

"  I'm  mighty  sorry,  for  Dad's  got  t'  get  some 
money  sommers  an'  he  'uz  in  hopes  yeh  cud 
help  him  out." 

"  I  did  think  I'd  be  able  t'  pay  it  all  up.   But 
seems  like  everything  jes'  come  on  me  t'  onct. 
268 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

It's  made  me  pretty  hard  up.  I'll  try  an'  do 
somepin  on  it  and  make  some  'rangements 
'bout  th'  rest.  Yeh  tell  yer  Pa  I'll  do  th'  very 
bes'  I  can." 

"  Course  Dad  don't  want  t'  push  yeh  none." 

Sibley's  face  brightened. 

"  I  didn't  think  he'd  be  hard  on  me  under 
th'  circumstances,"  Ridgeby  answered.  "  I'll 
do  th'  bes'  I  can." 

"  Ord'narily  Dad  wouldn't  said  a  word,  but 
way  'tis  now  he's  jes'  got  t'  have  a  little  money 
an'  he  don't  see  no  other  place  t'  get  it." 

Sibley's  face  darkened  again. 

"  How  much  d'  yeh  guess  he's  got  t'  have?  " 

"  Well  he's  pret'  hard  up,  otherwise  he 
wouldn't  say  nahthin'." 

"  How  much  d'yeh  think  he  can  get  'long 
with." 

"  He  says  he  don't  see  how  he's  goin'  t'  get 
through  'thout  th'  hull  on  it.  Course  he  don't 
want  t'  push  yeh  none." 

Sibley's  face  blanched. 

Ridgeby  shook  his  head. 
269 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

11  Ther  ain't  no  way  I  can  do  it,  Abner,  no 
way  possible." 

"  Course  ef  yeh  can't  yeh  can't." 

"  It's  this  way,  Abner,"  Ridgeby  said  slowly. 
"  Las'  spring  Em'ly  'uz  tuk  bad  with  th'  rooma- 
tiz  an'  there  'uz  a  big  doctor's  bill.  Then  I 
want  well  fer  a  spell  an'  had  t'  hire  a  han'  t' 
help  out.  Then  we  had  the  Simpkinses  here 
and  Mis'  Simpkins  an'  th'  baby  died  an'  had  t' 
be  buried  an'  there  'uz  more  expense,  then 
Newton  got  hurt.  'Tween  the  hull  thing  I've 
jes'  been  et  up." 

"  Yeh  can't  expect  us  t'  suffer  fer  other 
people,"  said  Abner  roughly.  "  Yeh  shudn't 
be  takin'  everybody  in  an'  doin'  fer  'em  th'  way 
yeh  do.  Yeh  owe  somepin  t'  yer  creditors." 

"  Th'  burdens  th'  Lord  puts  on  me  I'm 
bound  t'  carry,"  said  Ridgeby,  humbly.  "  I've 
got  t'  trust  him  not  t'  make  'em  too  heavy." 

"  Well  Dad  don't  want  to  push  yeh  none,  but 

he's  jes'  got  t'  have  some  money.     That's  all 

there  is  to  it.     'Taint  his  fault  'at  yeh  harbour 

all  th'  tramps  in  th'  county.     He  expects  folks 

270 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

he's  com'dated  t'  pay  him  fore  they  go  t'  run- 
nin'  horspitals.  He's  got  t'  have  money  en'  ef 
yeh  can't  raise  it  he'll  have  t'  be  harder  on  yeh 
thim  he  likes  t'  be." 

Sibley's  face  became  pale  as  death.  She 
started  to  spring  to  her  feet  but  sank  down 
again.  She  bit  her  lips  until  the  blood  came. 

"  D'yeh  mean  he'll  take  th'  farm,"  Ridgeby 
asked  blankly. 

"  He's  got  t'  have  money." 

"  But  he'll  give  me  a  little  chance,  won't  he? 
He  won't  put  me  out  of  a  home?  " 

"  Don't  see  how  he  can  help  it  less  yeh  pay 
up." 

Ridgeby  got  up  from  his  chair  and  tottered 
over  and  put  his  hand  on  Abner's  shoulder. 
Abner  looked  down  at  the  floor. 

"  Have  a  little  mercy  on  me  Abner,"  Ridgeby 
pleaded.  "  I  give  yeh  th'  dearest  thing  I  had 
on  earth,  my  Sibley,  an'  it  almost  bruk  my 
heart  t'  do  it.  She  said  she  wanted  it  that  way 
so  I  didn't  say  nahthin'.  Now  don't  turn  her 
old  Ma  and  Pa  out  in  th'  road  t'  die  as  yeh  did 
271 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

th'  Simpkinses.     Ef  yeh'll  only  give  me  a  little 
time  I  can  pull  through." 

"  'Tain't  me,"  Abner  replied  stolidly.  "  It's 
Dad,  an'  he's  jes'  got  t'  have  money." 

Ridgeby  brushed  his  hands  across  his  eyes 
and  turned  away. 

"  Ef  it's  th'  Lord's  will  I  can't  say  nahthin'," 
he  said  hoarsely. 

Sibley  put  her  head  down  on  the  bed. 

"  Yeh  don't  need  t'  worry  none,"  Abner 
said  with  an  attempt  at  pacification.  "  I  won't 
see  yeh  turned  out  of  a  home,  Ridgeby.  Yeh 
can  stay  here  till  me  an'  Sib's  married,  then 
Dad'll  prob'bly  give  me  this  place.  I'll  see  yeh 
don't  suffer  none.  I  wist  m'self  'at  Dad 
wouldn't  be  s'  hard  on  yeh  but  he's  in  a  bad 
way  an'  don't  see  no  other  way  out  of  it.  Tell 
Sib  ef  she's  s'  interested  takin'  care  o'  that 
tramp  she  can't  see  me,  I'll  stay  way  tell  he 
gets  well." 

Abner  picked  up  his  hat  and  lumbered  to 
ward  the  door.    Ridgeby  was  staring  gloomily 
at  the  wall.     Lilt  seemed  about  to  spring  on 
Abner.     He  held  himself  back. 
272 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"I'll  tell  Dad  what  yeh  said  'bout  th' 
mor'gage,"  Abner  called  back  as  he  went  out 
the  door. 

Sibley  raised  her  head  an  instant  then  she 
threw  it  down  on  the  bed  again  and  burst  into 
a  paroxysm  of  weeping. 

"  And  it  was  all  in  vain,"  she  sobbed.  "  All 
in  vain.  All  in  vain." 

She  felt  an  arm  stealing  around  her  waist. 


273 


Chapter  XVIII 

SIBLEY  continued  to  sob.  The  arm  drew 
tighter  about  her.     Then  came  Newton's 
voice.     It  was  feeble,  but  it  was  intense 
and  sympathetic. 

"Sibley!" 

A  thrill  ran  over  the  girl.  The  pressure  of 
his  arm  was  like  an  electric  current.  The  sound 
of  his  voice  was  soothing.  It  found  its  way 
into  her  heart.  She  was  too  much  overcome 
by  the  shock  she  had  experienced  and  its  at 
tendant  grief  to  reason.  She  knew  that  New 
ton  was  awake,  that  his  arm  was  about  her, 
that  his  voice  had  whispered  in  her  ear.  In 
stinctively  she  tried  to  pull  away.  The  arm 
closed  tighter  about  her  and  the  voice  came 
again,  low  tender,  pleading. 

"Sibley!" 

She  looked  up  at  him.  Her  tears  were  flow 
ing  so  fast  that  she  could  not  see  him  clearly. 
He  was  sitting  bolt  upright.  His  face  was  pale 
and  drawn  but  there  was  an  expression  of 
dawning  hope  lighting  it  up. 
274 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Is  this  the  reason  you  were  going  to  marry 
Abner  Hawkins  ? "  he  asked,  looking  deeply 
into  her  eyes. 

She  threw  herself  down  on  the  bed  again  and 
hid  her  face  while  her  tears  broke  out  afresh. 
Newton  began  to  stroke  her  forehead  gently. 
He  had  forgotten  the  wound  in  his  side.  He 
bent  closer  to  her. 

"  Tell  me,  Sibley,"  he  asked  again.  "  Is  this 
the  reason  you  were  going  to  marry  Abner 
Hawkins  ?" 

Sibley  made  a  violent  attempt  to  regain  con 
trol  of  herself.  Newton  continued  caressing 
her. 

"  Speak  to  me,"  he  pleaded  softly.  "  Have  I 
guessed  rightly?  " 

Sibley  could  not  look  up.  After  a  struggle 
she  nodded  her  head. 

"  And  you  do  not  love  him  ?  "  he  asked  with 
an  accent  of  hope  in  his  voice. 

Sibley  shook  her  head. 

The  arm  drew  tighter  about  her  waist.  Sib 
ley  ceased  weeping.  A  restfulness  came  over 
her.  Newton's  caresses  rilled  her  with  a  new 
275 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

sense  of  contentment.  She  knew  she  should 
resent  them,  should  tear  herself  away  from  his 
arms,  should  be  very  angry  with  him  for  what 
he  had  done,  but  her  grief  had  left  her  too 
weak  to  struggle.  She  was  half  glad  it  was  so. 
She  did  not  want  to  struggle. 

Newton  found  himself  almost  afraid  to  ask 
another  question  for  fear  his  dawning  hope 
would  set  again.  In  his  weakness  he  began  to 
tremble.  Sibley  felt  it.  It  affected  her 
strangely. 

"Is  this  the  only  reason  you  were  going  to 
marry  him  ?  "  he  asked  slowly. 

A  shudder  ran  over  the  girl's  form.  Her 
muscles  seemed  suddenly  to  become  rigid.  She 
looked  up.  It  was  a  strange  face  that  Newton 
found  looking  into  his.  There  was  something 
pitifully  tragic  about  it. 

"  Could  there  be  any  other  reason  ?  "  she 
asked.  "  I  loathe  him.  I  despise  him.  I  hate 
him." 

She  melted  again  and  bowed  her  face  into 
her  hands.  Newton  began  stroking  her  fore 
head  as  before. 

276 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  You  hate  him  and  yet  you  were  going  to 
marry  him  ?  "  he  asked  slowly. 

"  Yes." 

"To  save  the  farm?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Tell  me  about  it." 

He  drew  her  closer  to  him  and  turned  her 
face  around  so  he  could  look  into  her  eyes.  She 
made  a  feeble  effort  to  pull  away  from  him. 

"  No,  I  will  not  let  you  go,"  he  said.  "  At 
least  not  yet.  Tell  me  all  about  this  trouble/ 

A  blush  mantled  Sibley's  white  cheeks.  She 
sank  back  and  ceased  to  struggle. 

"  I  thought  I  could  save  the  farm,"  she 
whispered.  "  I  knew  that  father  would  be  un 
able  to  meet  the  mortgage  when  it  came  due. 
He  is  so  open  hearted  that  he  cares  for  every 
one  without  a  thought  for  himself.  It  was  this 
mortgage  that  procured  the  money  which  sent 
me  to  college.  It  would  have  broken  my  heart 
to  think  that  after  they  had  sacrificed  so  much 
for  me  that  they  should  lose  everything  on  my 
account.  I  am  afraid  it  would  kill  father  and 
mother  to  lose  the  farm.  It  has  been  their 
277 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

home  for  nearly  fifty  years.  It  would  be  like 
parting  with  life  for  them  to  go  away  from  it. 
George  Hawkins  held  the  mortgage  and  he  has 
said  that  he  would  own  this  farm  before  he 
died.  I  knew  that  he  would  have  no  mercy  on 
father.  Abner  Hawkins  has  always  forced  his 
attentions  on  me  since  we  went  to  the  district 
school  together.  I  always  disliked  him,  he  was 
so  rough,  so  savage,  so  cruel.  The  older  I 
grew  the  more  I  disliked  him  until  I  came  to 
abhor  the  sight  of  him.  He  has  repeatedly 
asked  me  to  marry  him.  The  thought  was 
enough  to  chill  me.  But  when  I  saw  how  he  had 
father  in  his  power  I  gave  up,  gritted  my  teeth 
and  with  my  heart  filled  with  loathing  promised 
to  marry  him.  I  thought  that  this  way  I  could 
help  my  father  and  mother.  It  was  but  a 
small  repayment  for  all  they  have  done  for  me. 
I  did  not  think  that  Abner  would  see  the  par 
ents  of  his  promised  wife  turned  into  the  road. 
Merciless  as  I  knew  him  and  his  father  to  be  I 
could  not  think  them  that  bad.  But  I  was  mis 
taken.  My  life  has  been  thrown  away 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

and  it  has  done  no  good.  Poor  father  and 
mother." 

Sibley  sighed  heavily.  Newton  looked  at  her 
seriously. 

"  Did  you  know  what  it  meant  to  marry  that 
man  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  Sibley  whispered,  "  I  knew  it  all." 

"  Think  of  the  picture,"  Newton  said. 
"  These  pretty  hands,  so  soft  and  white,  what 
would  they  be  after  you  had  been  his  wife  for 
a  time.  Think  of  them  worn,  rough,  and  mis 
shapen,  with  the  knuckles  swollen  and  knotted. 
Think  of  those  blue  eyes  faded  with  weeping. 
You  have  but  to  look  at  his  mother  to  see  the 
picture.  Think  of  you  yoked  to  that  animal. 
You  would  be  the  slave  of  a  tyrant,  your 
drudgery  repaid  by  rough  words  and  perhaps 
blows.  Your  life  would  be  one  unceasing  night 
mare.  Have  you  thought  of  all  this?  " 

"  Thought  of  it,"  Sibley  returned  slowly, 
"  Yes,  I  have  thought  of  it  all  and  of  a  thou 
sand  horrors  more  compared  to  which  these  are 
nothing.  I  have  been  haunted  by  them  night 
279 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

and  day  until  for  a  time  it  seemed  that  I  must 
die  to  escape  them.  Every  time  that  he  comes 
near  me  I  feel  as  though  I  could  kill  him.  I 
have  buried  it  all.  It  was  wicked  of  me  to 
think  as  I  did.  I  was  doing  but  little  when 
mother  and  father  had  done  so  much.  I  have 
kept  all  my  feelings  hid  and  have  made  them 
think  me  happy.  It  was  a  terrible  struggle  at 
times.  It  seemed  as  though  my  feelings  must 
get  the  better  of  me." 

Newton  looked  at  her  tenderly. 

"  How  could  you  make  such  a  sacrifice?  "  he 
asked. 

An  ecstatic  smile  broke  over  Sibley's  face. 
Newton  had  never  seen  her  look  more  beautiful. 

"  How  could  I  make  such  a  sacrifice?  "  she 
asked,  looking  up  at  him.  "  How  could  I  re 
fuse  to  make  it?  I  should  have  hated  myself 
had  I  not  done  as  I  did.  The  tortures  my  con 
science  would  have  poured  upon  me  would  have 
been  harder  to  bear  than  the  worst  the  sacrifice 
can  do.  Think  of  all  they  have  denied  them 
selves  for  me.  If  they  lose  the  farm  they  have 
280 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

given  up  everything.  Think  of  what  I  owe 
them.  You  would  not  have  me  ungrateful  ?  " 

"  But  don't  you  know/'  replied  Newton 
earnestly,  "  That  the  knowledge  of  this  sacri 
fice  would  grieve  your  parents  ten  times  more 
than  would  the  loss  of  their  home  ? '' 

"  They  will  never  know,"  Sibley  returned 
simply. 

Newton  smiled  down  upon  her. 

"  Poor  little  heroine,"  he  said  caressing  her, 
"  And  it  has  all  been  in  vain.  Your  plan  to 
save  them  has  failed." 

Tears  sprang  to  Sibley's  eyes  again. 

"  Yes,  it  has  failed." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now?  " 

He  looked  closely  into  her  eyes.  They  fell 
before  his  gaze.  Sibley  gave  a  start.  She 
looked  full  up  at  him  and  made  an  effort  to 
spring  away. 

"  What  am  I  doing,"  she  exclaimed,  anx 
iously,  struggling  to  get  away.  "  What  a 
selfish  girl  I  am.  In  thinking  of  my  own  cares 
I  have  forgotten  all  about  you.  You  will  kill 
281 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

yourself  this  way.  The  physician  said  you  must 
keep  perfectly  still.  I  thought  you  were  dying 
last  night.  You  must  lie  down." 

Newton  held  her.  He  smiled  and  shook  his 
head. 

"  I  am  a  long  way  from  dying  now/'  he  said 
earnestly.  "  A  little  while  ago  I  did  not  care 
whether  I  died  or  not.  But  now  I  want  to  live 
and  I  am  going  to  live,  and  I  want  you  to  help 
me  live." 

A  blush  suffused  Sibley's  face  and  she  lay 
still  again. 

"  You  know  that  I  love  you,  Sibley,"  New 
ton  continued,  "  I  have  shown  it  in  every  mo 
tion.  I  have  tried  very  hard  to  hide  it  but  I 
could  not  hide  my  love  without  hiding  myself. 
My  love  had  become  me.  I  believe  I  began  to 
love  you  before  I  saw  you.  The  day  that  I 
came,  as  we  drove  into  the  yard  I  heard  you 
singing  '  Bon  Ami,'  an  old  favourite  of  mine. 
I  turned  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  you.  Then  it 
was  I  fear  that  I  began  to  love  you.  I  tried 
hard  not  to  do  so  especially  when  I  learned 
282 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

that  you  were  to  marry  Abner  Hawkins.  I 
could  never  reconcile  myself  to  that  idea.  I 
could  not  understand  how  you  could  care  for 
him,  yet  you  seemed  happy.  I  tried  to  make 
myself  think  it  was  nothing  to  me,  but  I  soon 
saw  that  it  was  everything.  It  has  seemed  to 
me  at  times  that  I  could  kill  the  man.  I  did 
handle  him  pretty  roughly  the  night  we 
wrestled.  I  was  well  paid  for  it,  too." 

"  I  thought  you  were  killed,"  Sibley  shud 
dered. 

"  When  you  told  me  you  wanted  me  to  go 
away  the  wish  came  to  me  that  I  had  been." 
He  stopped  for  a  minute  and  looked  down  at 
her. 

"Why  did  you  want  me  to  go  away?"  he 
asked  suddenly. 

A  vivid  blush  swept  over  Sibley's  cheeks. 
She  turned  her  face  away. 

"  Why  did  you  want  me  to  go  away?  "  he 
asked  again.  "  Did  my  loving  you  so  displease 
you  that  you  did  not  even  want  me  near  you? 
It  was  torture  to  me  but  it  was  a  torture  I  could 

283 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

not  bring  myself  to  leave.  Why  did  you  want 
me  to  go  away  ?  " 

She  hid  her  blushing  face.  She  was  still 
for  a  moment. 

"  Because,"  she  whispered  desperately,  not 
trusting  herself  to  look  up  at  him,  "  Because  I 
feared  that  if  you  stayed  my  heart  would  fail 
me  and  I  could  never  marry  Abner  Hawkins." 

She  sprang  away  from  him. 

"  There,  you  have  made  me  confess  it,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  Don't  torture  me  any  more." 

"  Sibley,  Sibley,"  he  called,  holding  his  arms 
out  toward  her.  "  Come  to  me.  Do  not  go 
away.  I  want  you.  I  want  you  forever.  You 
shall  not  go  away  from  me.  Come." 

Sibley  caught  her  breath. 

"  No,  Newton,"  she  cried  faintly.  "  Don't 
tempt  me.  It  is  hard  enough  to  bear  as  it  is.  I 
have  promised  myself  to  him." 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  don't  mean 
to  say  that  you  still  intend  to  marry  that  fiend. 
The  reason  for  the  sacrifice  is  gone." 

"  Yes,"  she  returned  sadly.  "  I  have  given 
284 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

him  my  promise,  what  right  have  I  to  take  it 
back  ?  Besides  I  may  yet  be  able  to  help  father 
and  mother.  Abner  has  promised  that  they 
shall  stay  on  the  place  until  we  are  married 
and  then  he  will  see  that  they  are  taken  care  O'f . 
My  duty  is  to  them  first  even  if  I  cared  nothing 
for  my  promise.  You  should  help  me  to  bear  it 
rather  than  tempting  me  away  from  it." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  Abner's  promise  to 
care  for  them  is  worth  ? "  Newton  replied. 
"When  he  finds  himself  in  possession  here  do 
you  suppose  he  will  scruple  to  turn  them  out 
to  die  or  go  to  the  poorhouse?  Even  if  he 
kept  them  here  the  humiliations  he  would  sub 
ject  them  to  would  kill  them." 

"  It  is  the  only  hope,"  Sibley  replied  slowly. 
"  I  must  at  least  do  my  part.  It  is  the  only 
thing  that  can  be  done  to  save  them." 

"  No,  it  is  not  the  only  hope,"  he  said  smil 
ing  wanly.  "  Come  here  a  moment." 

Sibley  went  up  to  him  and  sat  down  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed.  He  tried  to  put  his  arms 
around  her  again,  but  she  shook  her  head. 

285 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Don't  worry  another  moment  about  your 
father  and  mother,  Sibley,"  he  said.  "  That  is 
a  load  you  can  take  off  your  heart  entirely. 
Your  parents  are  not  going  to  the  poorhouse, 
they  are  not  coming  to  want.  They  are  not 
even  going  to  lose  the  farm.  I  am  not  all  in 
gratitude.  Do  you  suppose  that  after  I  heard 
of  their  trouble  that  I  intended  to  take  no  hand 
in  the  matter.  They  have  showered  kindnesses 
on  me.  It  is  but  a  little  thing  for  me  to  do  to 
aid  them  now.  I  will  pay  the  mortgage." 

"  You  pay  the  mortgage,"  Sibley  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  why  shouldn't  I?" 

There  was  a  look  of  puzzled  astonishment  on 
Sibley's  face.  Newton  saw  it  and  understood 
it.  He  burst  out  into  a  feeble  laugh. 

"  I  forgot  that  I  was  only  a  tramp  that 
Ridgeby  picked  up  in  the  road.  I  was  a  tramp, 
but  not  one  of  the  vicious  variety." 

He  laughed  again.  Lilt  heard  the  sound  and 
opened  the  door. 

"Hullo!"  he  called  heartily.  "Come  to, 
hev  yeh?  " 

286 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Ridgeby's   careworn    face   appeared   behind 
Lilt.     It  brightened  as  he  looked  in.     An  ex 
pression  of  relief  came  over  it. 
"  Kin  I  come  in?  "  he  asked. 
Newton  held  out  his  hand.    Ridgeby  shuffled 
up  to  the  bed  and  bent  over  it. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  ever  come  t'  do  it,"  he 
began.    "  I  hope  yeh'll  try  t'  forgive  me?  " 

"Don't  talk  about  that  now,"  Newton  re 
turned.     "  You  are  in  trouble.     I  was  awake 
when  Abner  was  here  and  heard  all  about  it." 
The  careworn  look  deepened  on  Ridgeby's 
face.    He  sighed. 

"  I  don't  see  no  way  out  'cept  t*  lose  th'  farm. 
It's  been  home  t'  us  s'  long  that  it'll  be  like 
dyin'  t'  go  'way  from  it.  I  don't  see  what  we'll 
do  nuther.  Guess  th'  Lord  '11  look  after  us 
some  way.  Em'ly  an'  me's  lived  here  ever 
sence  we  'uz  married.  All  our  children  'uz  born 
an'  died  here  an'  it  'uz  here  we  got  little  Sib- 
ley."  His  voice  choked. 

"  Things  are  not  so  bad  as  they  might  be," 
Newton  returned  quietly.  "  I  am  fortunately 

287 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

in  a  position  where  I  can  be  of  some  little  as 
sistance  to  you  and  in  that  way  repay  to  a  slight 
extent  the  unnumbered  kindnesses  you  have 
all  done  me." 

Ridgeby  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"If  I  had  known  about  this  it  could  have 
been  fixed  before,"  Newton  continued.  "  I  have 
a  friend  who  has  a  little  money  that  he  wants 
to  invest  in  Iowa  farm  mortgages.  He  asked 
me  to  look  up  one  or  two  for  him.  I  will  write 
to  him  at  once  and  we  can  have  the  money  here 
by  the  time  the  other  mortgage  comes  due.  He 
will  want  it  a  long  time  loan  at  five  per  cent." 

Lilt  threw  his  arms  into  the  air  with  a  shout. 
Mrs.  Ridgeby  hastened  in. 

Ridgeby  stood  looking  vacantly  at  Newton 
as  though  unable  to  comprehend  his  words. 
Then  the  strength  seemed  to  leave  his  limbs. 
He  sank  to  his  knees  and  buried  his  face  in  the 
bed.  Sobs  and  a  prayer  came  mingled  from  his 
lips. 

Newton's  artificial  strength  suddenly  ebbed 
away.     His  face  became  pale  as  death  and  he 
288 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

sank  back  on  the  pillows  with  his  eyes  closed. 
A  look  of  pain  swept  over  his  face.  Sibley 
was  at  his  side  in  a  moment.  She  hurriedly 
motioned  the  others  out  of  the  room.  Ridgeby 
stumbled  across  the  threshold.  He  would  have 
fallen  had  not  Lilt  caught  him.  There  were 
tears  in  Mrs.  Ridgeby's  eyes. 

"  Th'  Lord's  mighty  good  t'  us,  Hiram,"  she 
whispered.  "  I  knew  he  want  goin'  t'  desert 
us." 

Newton  opened  his  eyes  after  a  moment.  He 
tried  to  lift  his  arms  up  to  Sibley,  but  he  was 
too  weak. 

"  Promise  me,"  he  whispered. 

"  I  will  think,"  she  answered. 

"  Kiss  me." 

Sibley  stooped  and  touched  his  lips  with  hers. 


289 


M 


Chapter  XIX 

RS.  RIDGEBY  sat  out  by  the  kitchen 
door  quartering  apples.  A  breeze 
.from  the  north,  courtly  harbinger  of 
Old  Boreas,  gently  fanned  her  gray  hairs  about 
her  temples  and  trailed  them  over  her  forehead 
in  a  white  wreath.  She  worked  mechanically, 
paring,  coring  and  quartering  the  green  globes 
with  a  deft  skill  that  left  her  eyes  free  to  wan 
der  in  at  the  door  where  they  fell  upon  the  five 
straight-backed  chairs  shoved  closely  up  by  the 
table,  those  five  chairs  that  had  been  vacated 
one  by  one  years  before  had  never  known 
another  occupant.  To  Mrs.  Ridgeby's  eyes 
the  chairs  were  not  empty  and  the  glances 
she  threw  upon  them  were  laden  with  caresses. 
Her  fancy  had  escaped  from  the  thrall  of  pres 
ent  reality  and,  yielding  to  the  charm  of  a 
dreamy  October  day,  had  been  wafted  into  the 
shadowy  realm  of  reminiscence.  The  low  rattle 
of  the  dead  leaves  in  the  trees  became  the  chat 
ter  of  young  voices.  The  exultant  pipings  of  a 
290 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

black  bird  overhead  was  tuned  to  the  sweeter 
music  of  childish  laughter.  The  varied  clatter 
of  the  barn  yard  was  transformed  to  the  mirth 
ful  cries  of  children  at  play.  Now  and  then 
a  half  smile  would  play  about  the  corners  of 
her  mouth,  or,  again,  an  expression  of  pain 
would  sweep  over  her  features. 

Sibley  was  sitting  near  her.  She  had  been 
paring  apples  as  well,  but  the  pan  now  lay 
half  emptied  and  unnoticed  in  her  lap.  One  of 
her  hands  still  held  a  knife  but  she  did  not  feel 
its  touch.  The  other  supported  her  chin.  She 
was  looking  away  off  across  the  fields  to  where 
a  cloud  had  thrown  a  great  shadow  across  a 
meadow.  She  watched  the  shadow  as  it  crept 
slowly  along  eating  up  the  sunshine.  It  was 
coming  rapidly  toward  her.  It  fell  upon  her. 
She  half  shuddered,  then  turned  to  watch  the 
bright  glare  that  was  following  it  up.  The 
shadow  passed  and  the  sunlight  broke  out  even 
brighter  than  before.  Sibley  sighed  weariedly 
and  half  started  to  take  up  her  work  again,  but 
the  absent  expression  settled  upon  her  face  once 
291 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

more  and  she  forgot  it.  At  length  she  got  up, 
laid  the  pan  of  apples  upon  the  steps,  and  went 
into  the  house. 

A  week  had  passed  since  bending  low  over 
the  bed  Sibley  sealed  her  love  for  Newton  with 
a  kiss.  The  week  had  been  one  of  varied  emo 
tions  to  each  of  them.  To  Newton  it  had  been 
a  time  of  quiet  happiness  alternated  by  seasons 
of  eager  discontent.  A  time  of  happiness  be 
cause  Sibley  had  said  she  loved  him;  of  dis 
content  because  while  she  wavered  in  her  de 
termination  to  remain  true  to  a  self  sacrificing 
promise,  she  still  refused  to  break  it.  To  Sibley 
the  week  had  been  a  period  of  unceasing  battle, 
of  battle  between  her  heart  and  her  conscience. 
Her  conscience  urged  her  to  marry  Abner 
Hawkins  because  she  had  given  him  her  sacred 
promise.  Her  heart  cried  out  to  her  to  break 
out  into  the  full  sunshine  of  this  new  love  that 
had  come  upon  her.  She  trembled  between 
these  two  adversaries. 

Newton  was  lying  on  his  back  gazing  up  at 
the  ceiling.  He  was  trying  to  resolve  the  laby- 
292 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

rinth  of  cracks  in  the  plastering  into  faces.  He 
heard  Sibley's  step  as  she  entered  the  house. 
He  called  her. 

"  Do  you  want  anything?  "  she  asked  look 
ing  in  at  the  door. 

"  Yes/' 

"What  is  it?" 

"  You." 

Sibley's  eyes  dropped.  Then  she  looked  up, 
smiled,  half  started  to  go  up  to  him,  then  turned 
away  and  disappeared  into  her  room. 

Mrs.  Ridgeby  cored  and  quartered,  quar 
tered  and  cored.  The  black  bird  gradually 
widened  its  circles,  then  flew  off  on  a  tangent 
and  disappeared.  With  him  went  the  fancy 
of  childish  voices  his  pipings  had  conjured  up 
in  Mrs.  Ridgeby's  mind.  She  came  out  from 
her  re  very  and  brushed  the  back  of  her  hand 
across  her  eyes.  She  sighed  heavily.  Ridgeby 
came  up  from  the  barn  and  sat  down  upon  the 
steps  by  her  side.  The  lines  in  his  face  had 
deepened.  He  looked  disconsolate. 

"  What's  th'  matter,  Hiram?  "  his  wife  asked 
293 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

anxiously.  "  I  hain't  seen  yeh  lookin'  so  bad  in 
a  long  time.  Yeh  ain't  goin'  t'  be  sick  are 
yeh?  Yeh've  been  workin'  t'  hard." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  I  can't  work  t'day  somehow.  I  tried  but 
I  had  t'  give  it  up.  My  min'  won't  stay  on 
work." 

He  looked  up  at  the  black  bird,  that  had  re 
turned,  bringing  its  mate  with  it.  Then  he 
silently  gazed  up  into  the  face  of  his  wife  for 
some  time. 

"  Em'ly,"  he  said,  slowly,  after  awhile. 
"D'ye  know  what  day  this  is?" 

Mrs.  Ridgeby  looked  at  him  reproachfully. 

"  Hain't  I  been  a  mother,"  she  answered. 
"Could  I  forget?" 

"  It's  jest  twenty-five  years  ago  t'day  he 
went  away." 

"  Yes,  twenty-five  years  ago  t'day." 

"  You  an'  me's  gettin'  pretty  old,  Em'ly." 

"  We'll  soon  be  younger  now,  Hiram." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it." 

Silence  again  for  a  few  moments. 
294 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Seems  like  I  couldn't  kerry  this  load  much 
longer,  Em'ly."  Ridgeby  said  at  length. 

"Yeh  don't  have  t'  kerry  it  all  alone, 
Hiram." 

"  Seems  like  I  do.  I  don't  deserve  no  help  I 
s'pose  in  kerryin'  this.  A  minnet's  anger  has 
made  me  a  quarter  of  a  cent'ry  o'  torture. 
How  I  made  yer  heart  ache,  too,  Em'ly.  You 
was  his  mother  an'  I  sent  him  away." 

"  Yeh  thought  yer's  doin'  right,  Hiram.  It 
seemed  hard  t'  me  but  you  was  his  father  and 
knowed  best." 

"  It  wa'n't  right,  Em'ly.  It  wa'n't  right.  Th' 
Lord  sent  our  Jim  t'  us  an'  made  us  responsi 
ble  fer  his  soul.  I  forgot  it  fer  th'  moment.  I 
only  thought  o'  th'  disgrace  he'd  brung  on  us. 
I  shud  have  fergive  th'  disgrace,  Em'ly." 

"  Yeh  did  fergive  it,  Hiram.  Yeh  fergive  it 
almost  before  he  was  gone." 

"  But  he  never  knew  it,  Em'ly,  he  never 
knew  it." 

"  God  knows  it,  Hiram." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  He  does  er  not." 
295 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Ridgeby's  face  was  hopelessness  itself. 

"  Seems  like  ef  God  knew  how  I've  fergive 
Jim,  he'd  fergive  me." 

"Perhaps  He  has  fergive  yeh,  Hiram." 

"  Don't  seem  like  he  could  a,  Emily.  If  he 
had  fergive  me  like  I  fergive  Jim  He'd  stop 
punishin'  me,  but  He  hain't,  Em'ly.  He  hain't. 
It  seems  like  my  heart  'uz  a  bein'  et  out  all  th' 
time.  Many's  th'  night  when  yeh  thought  me 
sleepin'  I've  been  out  on  my  knees  prayin'  fer 
fergiveness,  but  there  never  come  no  sign." 

Tears  began  dropping  from  Mrs.  Ridgeby's 
eyes.  They  glistened  on  the  apples  like  dew 
drops. 

"We've  both  suffered,  Hiram,"  she  whis 
pered.  "  We've  both  suffered.  If  little  Sibley 
hadn't  come  t'  us  I'm  'fraid  my  heart  would 
a  broke.  Someway  she  reminded  me  o'  Jim. 
It  seemed  sometimes  like  I'd  got  my  Jim  back 
a  baby  agin.  Th'  others  wuz  tuk  so  quick  I 
b'lieve  I'd  a  died  ef  Sibley  hadn't  come." 

"  It  'uz  God's  curse  on  me,  Em'ly.     It  uz 
God's  curse  on  me.     I  sent  away  one  he  give 
us  an'  t'  punish  me  he  tuk  'em  all." 
296 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

There  was  silence  again  for  some  time. 

"  I  wonder  ef  He  tuk  our  Jim  when  I  sent 
him  away?  "  Ridgeby  sighed  after  a  while. 

"  He  must  a,  Hiram,"  Mrs.  Ridgeby  an 
swered  tearfully.  "  He  must  a,  Jim  'ud  a  come 
back  ef  He  hadn't.  Jim  knew  'at  we  loved  him. 
He  knew  'at  yeh'd  fergive  him  an'  take  him 
back.  Jim  wa'n't  a  bad  boy,  only  thoughtless. 
I  know  he'd  a  come  back  ef  he  was  alive.  I've 
felt  fer  a  long  time'  at  he  was  with  th'  rest." 

"  It  must  be,  it  must  be,"  Ridgeby  sighed. 
"  I'd  a  found  him  'fore  this  ef  it  wa'n't  so.  I 
never  stopped  huntin'  fer  him,  Em'ly.  I  never 
said  nahthin'  'bout  it  fer  I  never  thought  some 
way  it  'ud  do  no  good,  but  I  did  everything  I 
could  t'  find  him  an'  bring  him  back  t'  yeh. 
But  fer  all  I  cud  do  I  never  found  no  trace. 
Twice  they  thought  they'd  found  him,  but  each 
time  it  'uz  th'  wrong  one  an'  my  heart  'uz  torn 
with  disappointments." 

"  Sometime  we'll  know,  Hiram,"  his  wife 
said  slowly.  "  Sometime,  we'll  know." 

"  When  'at  time  comes  I'll  know  I've  been 
fergiven,"  Ridgeby  answered  with  a  sigh. 
297 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

The  black  bird  carolled  overhead.  The  wind 
rose  higher  and  shook  down  the  leaves  from 
the  trees  and  set  them  in  a  dance  upon  the 
ground.  The  clatter  of  the  barn  yard  became 
quieter.  Ridgeby  sat  and  gazed  gloomily  away 
across  the  barren  fields.  At  last  his  wife  laid 
aside  her  pan  and  stooping  wound  her  arms 
about  his  neck.  She  drew  his  gray  head  into 
her  lap  and  kissed  his  forehead.  He  looked 
up  at  her.  The  clouds  slowly  passed  away  from 
his  face.  The  lovelight  of  the  honeymoon 
shone  undimmed  in  his  eyes. 

A  moment  later  old  Reuben's  uncouth  form 
tumbled  around  the  corner  of  the  house.  There 
was  a  comical  look  of  protest  on  his  face.  He 
hobbled  past  the  kitchen  door  and  headed  for 
the  barn. 

"Ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice  yeh'll  run,"  he 
piped.  "  She'll  jaw  yeh.  Oh,  I  know  what 
she's  comin'  fer.  She's  comin'  t'  jaw  yeh." 

"  What's  th'  matter?  "  Ridgeby  asked,  start 
ing  to  his  feet. 

"  She's  comin',"  jerking  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder.  "I'm  goin'  t'  th'  barn.  Ef  yeh'll 
298 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

take  my  advice  yeh'll  go  t'.  She'll  jaw  yeh 
good  ef  she  catches  yeh.  By  Gum,  she'll  jaw 
yeh  good." 

Ridgeby  turned  and  saw  Miss  Latey's  slight 
form  coming  slowly  up  the  lane.  She  walked 
feebly  and  stopped  at  frequent  intervals  as 
though  to  rest.  She  turned  in  at  the  gate  and 
came  around  the  house. 

"Why,  how  d'  yeh  do?"  Mrs.  Ridgeby 
cried  springing  to  her  feet.  She  tried  to  keep  the 
note  of  surprise  out  of  her  voice.  "  Come  right 
int'  th'  kitchen.  I'm  glad  t'  see  yeh.  Yeh  mus' 
take  off  yehr  shawl  an'  stay  t'  tea.  Yeh  hain't 
been  here  in  a  long  time." 

Miss  Latey  sat  down  in  the  chair  offered  her. 
She  was  breathing  heavily  as  though  the  ex 
ertion  of  walking  had  fatigued  her  greatly. 

"  No,  guess  I  never  was  here  afore — an' 
guess  I'll  never  come  again." 

Her  breath  failed  her.  She  had  tried  to 
sit  upright  in  the  little  rocker  but  had  weariedly 
sunk  back  into  it.  Her  face  was  pale  and  worn. 
A  hectic  flush  burned  on  her  cheeks.  She 
stifled  a  cough  in  her  handkerchief.  The  prim- 
299 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

ness  had  gone  out  of  her  bearing.  Her  eyes 
had  lost  their  snap. 

"  Yeh  don't  look  uz  well  's  common,"  Mrs. 
Ridgeby  said,  sympathetically. 

"  I  hain't,  seems  like  th'  life's  about  gone  out 
o'  me.  I  don't  think  I'll  last  much  longer." 

"  Well,  we're  all  gettin'  on.  I  'uz  jest  tellin* 
Hiram  'at  we'd  be  young  agin  fer  good  'fore 
long.  Better  take  off  yer  shawl  an'  stay  t'  tea, 
we'd  be  real  pleased  t'  have  yeh." 

"  I  can't  stay  but  a  minnit.  I  come  up  on — 
on — business." 

Ridgeby  turned  out  the  door. 

"  Guess  yeh  wimmin  folks  '11  have  t'  excuse 
me.  I'll  get  out  o'  th'  way." 

Miss  Latey  was  coughing.  She  feebly  mo 
tioned  for  him  to  stay. 

"  I've  got  somepin  t'  say  t'  yeh,  t'  both  o' 
yeh,"  she  stammered,  turning  her  eyes  toward 
the  floor.  Ridgeby  turned  back. 

Miss  Latey  stifled  her  cough  and  pressed  her 
hand  over  her  heart  as  though  to  ease  a  pain 
there. 

"  It's  hard  for  me  to  tell  yeh  what  I've  got 
300 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

t',"  she  said  clutching  nervously  at  her  dress. 
But  I'm  failin'  fast  an'  know  I  hain't  very  long 
t'  live,  an*  someway  I  don't  feel  like  dyin'  with 
it  on  my  soul.  I  know  I've  led  a  mean  life 
but  I've  suffered  th'  most  fer  it  myself.  There 
want  no  sun  shinin'  fer  me  an'  I  wanted  t'  stop 
it  shinin'  fer  everybody  else.  I  hope  th'  Lord 
'11  fergive  me  fer  it." 

"  Yeh  kept  yer  self  away  fr'm  everybody  t' 
much,"  Mrs.  Ridgeby  said  sympathetically. 
"  Yeh'r  allus  welcome  here.  I've  often  won 
dered  why  yeh  never  come.  I  'uz  afraid  per 
haps  we'd  done  somepin'  t'  yeh.  Why  didn't 
yeh  come?  " 

"  I  didn't  go  no  place.  I  was  here  once.  Yeh 
didn't  see  me.  I  didn't  mean  yeh  shud.  That's 
why  I'm  here  now.  It's  about  yer  boy — Yer 
boy  Jim." 

"Our  Jim?" 

Ridgeby  tottered  to  his  feet.  An  expression 
of  mingled  pain  and  joy  swept  over  his  face. 

"Our  Jim?  Where  is  he?  Do  you  know? 
Is  he  dead?  Or  what?" 

Miss  Latey  was  seized  with  a  paroxysm  of 
301 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

coughing  that  left  her  speechless.  Mrs. 
Ridgeby  looked  at  her  helplessly. 

"  Yes  yer  Jim,"  Miss  Latey  gasped  when  she 
caught  her  breath.  "  I  don't  expect  yeh  t'  fer- 
give  me.  That  'ud  be  askin'  t'  much,  but  I've 
got  t'  tell  yeh  anyway." 

Ridgeby  stood  still  looking  at  her.  His  jaws 
were  set  and  his  teeth  clenched.  His  voice  was 
husky. 

"  Per  God's  sake  tell  us  what  yeh  know,"  he 
cried.  "  Oh  Jim.  Our  Jim." 

"  We  all  know  how  he  disgraced  yeh  an* 
how  he  went  away,"  she  answered,  her  voice 
trembling.  "  But  there  don't  nobody  but  me 
know  how  he  come  back." 

"How  he  come  back?" 

"  Yes,  he  did  come  back.  Twenty  years  ago 
this  winter." 

"  An'  yeh  never  told  us.  My  God !  My  God ! 
Air  yeh  human  ?  " 

Miss  Latey  coughed  again. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered  faintly. 
"  Yeh  won't  think  so.  I  don't  know  what  made 
302 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

me  act  th'  way  I  did.  Somepin  made  me  do  it. 
I  know  now  how  awful  wicked  it  was.  I  want 
t'  make  it  uz  near  right  now  uz  I  can.  That's 
all  I  can  do  now." 

She  clutched  at  her  dress  again. 

"  It  uz  an  awful  night  'at  he  come  back, 
twenty  years  ago.  It  'uz  th'  night  o'  th'  blizzard, 
when  Tom  Johnson  froze  t'  death,  perhaps  yeh 
remember  it.  It  'uz  about  nine  o'clock  when 
I  heard  a  feeble  knock  at  th'  door.  First  it 
frightened  me.  Then  it  come  again.  I  went 
an'  undid  th'  lock  an'  opened  th'  door.  A  man 
stumbled  in  an'  fell  on  th'  floor.  He  had  a 
bundle  in  his  arms.  I  got  him  up  on  the  bed 
somehow.  I  don't  know  how.  He  was  nearly 
dead.  Froze,  I  cud  see  that.  He  looked  awful, 
like  he'd  been  sick.  He  wuz  thin  an'  worn 
with  his  face  all  covered  with  a  thick  beard. 
After  awhile  he  opened  his  eyes.  Then  I  knew 
him.  It  'uz  Jim,  your  Jim.  It  wasn't  Tom 
Johnson  they  thought  froze  t'  death.  It  'uz  yer 
Jim.  He  wuz  tryin'  t'  get  back  home.  I  done 
all  I  cud  for  him  but  he  died  'fore  mornin'." 
303 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  An  yeh  never  told  us,"  Ridgeby  moaned, 
"  Yeh  never  told  us."  His  wife  was  weeping 
silently. 

Miss  Latey  coughed  again. 

"  Yes,  he  wuz  a  comin'  home.  He  said  he 
knowed  yeh'd  fergive  him  an'  take  him  back. 
He  said  he  knowed  yeh  loved  him  fer  all  he'd 
done,  an'  he  wuz  a  comin'  home  t'  tell  yeh 
how  sorry  he  wuz  he'd  wronged  yeh.  He'd 
been  t'  N'  York,  he  said,  an'  left  off  his  bad 
ways  an'  worked  hard  an'  tried  t'  make  a  man 
of  himself  so  yeh  cud  be  proud  o'  him,  he  said, 
'stid  o'  bein'  a  disgrace  t'  yeh.  He  didn't 
write,  he  said,  'cause  he  wanted  t'  do  somepin 
first  but  someway  everything  went  wrong  with 
him.  He'd  been  merried,  he  said,  t'  a  dear 
little  woman  who  had  suffered  everything  with 
him  an'  'en  died.  He  couldn't  stand  no  more 
after  that,  he  said,  somehow  it  tuk  all  th'  tuck 
out  o'  him.  Then  he  tuk  down  sick  an'  'en  he 
started  back  fer  home.  It  'uz  snowin'  when  he 
gDt  t'  th'  village  an'  looked  bad  in  th'  north, 
but  he  said  he  couldn't  wait,  so  he  started 
3°4 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

out  through  th'  snow.  He  cudn't  get  no  fur- 
ther'n  my  place.  He  never  did  get  no  further. 
There  wuz  a  little  baby  in  th'  bundle.  I  didn't 
know  what  it  wuz  till  it  cried.  He'd  wrapped 
it  all  up  an'  'en  tuk  off  his  overcoat  an'  put  that 
round  it  too.  His  face  lit  up  when  he  heard  it 
cry.  '  Give  it  t'  me/  he  said,  an'  I  picked  th' 
little  thing  up  and  laid  it  in  his  arms.  He 
kissed  it  an'  pretty  soon  he  died.  Th'  last  thing 
he  said  'uz  '  Tell  father  I  know  he'll  fergive 
me,  an'  '11  be  good  t'  my  little  girl.  Jim's  little 
girl.'  " 

Ridgeby  heard  a  half  sob  behind  him.  Sib- 
ley  was  standing  in  the  doorway  of  her  room 
a  breathless  listener. 

"  I  brought  her  up  here  an'  laid  her  on  th' 
steps  an'  went  away  an'  never  said  nahthin'." 

Ridgeby  gave  a  cry.  He  opened  his  arms. 
Sibley  sprang  into  them. 

"  Our  little  girl,"  he  cried.  "  Jim's  little  girl. 
Th'  Lord's  fergive  me  at  last.  Jim's  little  girl. 
Jim's  little  girl." 


305 


Chapter  XX 


ABROAD  glare  of  sunshine  broke 
through  the  window  into  the  Ridgeby 
kitchen  and  bathed  the  homely  room  in 
a  flood  of  light.  It  wrought  a  yellow  rug 
upon  the  floor  and  hung  the  walls  with 
tapestries  of  sunbeams  and  shadows.  The 
rude  furniture  was  gilded  to  a  royal  rich 
ness  and  the  simple  pictures  were  burnished 
with  glowing  tints.  The  sunshine  found  a 
reflection  in  the  faces  of  everyone  about 
the  place.  The  day  before  a  hundred  clouds 
had  been  swept  away  from  the  single  horizon 
of  the  Ridgebys'  lives,  and  the  sunshine  of  hap 
piness  had  broken  through  with  a  delicious 
warmth  that  had  stolen  the  aches  from  every 
heart.  Sibley  was  singing  blithely  as  she 
dashed  about  the  kitchen.  She  seemed  bubbling 
over  with  happiness.  The  crimson  had  come 
back  to  her  cheeks  and  the  laughter  to  her  eyes. 
That  wistful  expression,  that  herald  of  an 
aching  heart,  that  had  sat  upon  her  features 
306 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

like  a  cloud  so  long  had  lifted  itself.  The  face 
seemed  the  brighter  from  the  contrast.  She 
was  singing  "  Bon  Ami  "  with  a  hearty  good 
will.  It  was  the  first  time  the  notes  had  hung 
upon  her  lips  for  a  long  time.  They  seemed  to 
kiss  them  as  they  fell.  Mrs.  Ridgeby's  kindly 
face  had  taken  on  a  glow  of  happiness  that 
lighted  her  homely  features  to  beauty.  Now 
and  then  she  would  look  lovingly  at  Sibley  as 
though  she  were  some  long  lost  treasure  lately 
recovered.  Whenever  Ridgeby  passed  the  win 
dow  he  nodded  in  with  a  cheery  face  that 
seemed  to  have  lost  the  cares  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century. 

Newton  was  sitting  out  upon  the  kitchen 
steps.  It  was  a  position  he  considered  a  vant 
age  ground,  for  from  there  he  could  watch 
Sibley  all  the  time.  He  could  follow  her  as  she 
flitted  about  the  little  kitchen  and  he  could 
watch  her  as  well  when  her  various  duties 
called  her  out  into  the  yard.  This  was  the  first 
time  he  had  been  out.  He  wondered  himself 
that  his  strength  had  proved  equal  to  it,  but 
307 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

that  morning  a  new  strength  seemed  to  have 
come  upon  him.  The  confines  of  his  bed  took 
on  a  new  irksomeness.  The  song  of  the  birds 
and  the  glare  of  the  sunshine  seemed  to  be  call 
ing  him  out,  and  when  he  heard  Sibley's  voice 
echoing  a  happy  strain  above  them  all  he  had 
found  the  summons  too  fair  to  be  resisted.  He 
looked  rather  wan  sitting  there  in  the  sunshine 
and  Sibley  cast  anxious  glances  toward  him. 
Their  eyes  met.  His  asked  a  question.  Hers 
smiled  back  an  answer. 

Lilt  was  chopping  wood.  He  had  thrown 
off  his  hat  and  coat  and  rolled  his  sleeves  to  the 
elbow.  He  sent  his  axe  gleaming  about  his 
head  with  a  swinging  grace  and  buried  it  into 
the  logs  with  a  sturdy  "  Huh ! "  There  was 
a  half  grin  upon  his  face.  He  was  sending  his 
chips  flying  in  every  direction  with  a  reckless 
abandon.  Old  Reuben  was  building  a  pile  with 
mathematical  preciseness.  Every  few  moments 
he  would  retire  a  rod  or  so  and  survey  his  work 
with  a  squint.  He  was  just  bending  stiffly  to 
gather  an  armful  of  stovelengths  when  a  chip 
308 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

struck  him  a  smart  clip  on  the  ear.  He 
dropped  his  load  and  turned  with  a  sputtered 
complaint. 

"  Ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice " 

Another  chip  hit  him.  He  ducked  his  head 
and  glared  wrathfully  at  Lilt,  whom  he  half 
suspected  of  purposely  aiming  the  chips  in  his 
direction.  Lilt's  face  was  as  blank  as  a  stone 
wall. 

"  Ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice,"  he  cackled. 
"  Yeh'll  mind  yer  own  bizness." 

He  stooped  for  his  armful  of  wood  again, 
cocking  up  one  eye  in  an  attempt  to  keep  Lilt's 
axe  in  sight.  Lilt  winked  broadly  at  Newton 
and  with  a  dextrous  motion  made  his  axe  hit 
just  the  end  of  a  stick.  It  went  whizzing  past 
Reuben's  ears.  The  old  man  stumbled  to  his 
feet. 

"  What  yeh  tryin'  t'  do,  kill  me?  "  he  gasped. 
"  Yeh  think  yeh'r  smart  don't  yeh.  What  yeh 
want  t'  do  is  t'  get  merried.  Yeh  can't  get  mer- 
ried  t'  quick.  Yeh  need  somebody  t'  take  th' 
smart  out  o'  yeh.  Yeh'll  get  jawed.  Oh,  I 
309 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

know,     yeh'll    get    jawed.       Do    yeh    good, 
too/' 

Reuben  limped  around  the.  corner  of  the 
house  twitching  his  ears.  Lilt  roared.  Just 
then  Mrs.  Ridgeby  came  to  the  kitchen  door. 
She  held  a  small  basket  in  her  hand. 

"Oh,  Hiram!"  she  called,  "Hiram!" 

Ridgeby  was  just  coming  out  from  the  hen 
house.  He  dropped  his  pan  of  meal  and  started 
for  the  door. 

"  I've  fixed  up  a  little  basket  o'  things, 
Hiram,"  she  said,  gently,  "  'At  I  want  yeh  t' 
take  down  t'  Miss  Latey.  I'm  'fraid  she's  kind 
o'  feeble  an'  not  able  t'  do  much  fer  herself. 
They's  some  jell'  an'  things  here.  I  know  she'll 
like  'em.  It'll  show  we  don't  treasure  nahthin' 
agin  her,  too." 

The  smile  faded  from  Ridgeby's  face.  A 
hard  expression  came  over  it.  He  waited  a 
moment  before  he  answered  her. 

"  I  don't  think  I  c'n  go  down  there,"  he  said 
slowly.  "  I  don't  think  I  can." 

"  Now,  Hiram,"  his  wife  pleaded. 
310 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Think  how  she's  made  us  suffer.  Em'ly  I 
can't  ferget  it.  When  she  cud  's  easy  made  us 
happier." 

"  Perhaps  she  has  made  mistakes,  Hiram, 
but  there  hain't  none  of  us  that's  free  from 
'em." 

"  I  can't  call  what  she  did  a  mistake.  It  'uz 
willful." 

"Perhaps  it  was  fer  th'  best,  Hiram.  Per 
haps  it  was  fer  th'  best.  All  things  work 
t'gether,  yeh  know." 

"  Hadn't  we  had  suff'rin'  enough,  Em'ly?  " 

"  But  she  tried  t'  make  it  right,  Hiram." 

Ridgeby  turned  away. 

"  I  can't  do  it,  Em'ly,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head.  "  Perhaps  I'd  orter  but  I  can't." 

"  Hiram,"  said  his  wife  slowly,  "  Please." 

Ridgeby  turned  and  looked  at  her.  She  held 
out  the  basket. 

"  Please/'  she  repeated. 

Ridgeby's  face  softened.  He  hesitated. 
Then  he  slowly  reached  his  hand  out  for  the. 
basket. 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Yeh  allus  was  a  better  Christian  'un  me/' 
he  said  huskily,  and  started  slowly  down 
through  the  orchard. 

The  dew  was  on  the  grass  and  it  glistened  in 
the  sun.  A  little  later  the  sun  would  rise  higher 
and  lick  up  the  little  jewels  and  the  grass  blades, 
robbed  of  their  diamond  settings,  would  look 
yellow  and  faded.  The  air  was  full  of  har 
mony.  The  birds  were  twittering  around  him. 
At  intervals  the  whistle  of  a  gopher  would 
break  into  the  music.  The  wind  was  blowing 
just  strong  enough  to  raise  now  and  then  a 
chord  in  the  cottonwoods. 

Ridgeby  brightened  up  under  the  influence 
around  him  and  quickened  his  pace.  Whistling 
he  made  his  way  across  the  fields  until  the  little 
red  store  came  in  sight.  Then  he  stopped 
whistling  and  walked  more  slowly. 

"  1  wist  Eiliene  want  s'  queer,"  he  said  to 
himself  as  he  approached  the  corners.  He  un 
consciously  used  the  name  that  belonged  to  the 
girl  of  long  ago.  It  was  almost  the  first  time 
he  had  spoken  it  since  the  time  they  went  to 
spelling  schools  and  paring  bees  together.  He 
312 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

repeated  the  name  again  slowly,  as  though 
there  was  something  pleasant  in  the  sound, 
"  Eiliene." 

He  was  called  out  of  his  reverie  by  the  rasp 
ings  of  a  rude  voice  at  his  elbow.  It  startled 
him. 

"  Hello,  Ridgeby."  He  looked  up.  Abner 
Hawkins  had  come  up  to  him. 

"I  'us  jest  goin'  over  t'  yer  place,"  Abner 
said.  "  Glad  I  met  yeh.  Save  me  th'  trip." 

"  Wa-al." 

"  Dad  wanted  me  t'  see  yeh  again  'bout  th' 
mortgage.  It's  due  yeh  know,  Friday." 

"  Wa-al  what  about  it  ?  "  Ridgeby  asked  me 
chanically,  as  though  he  was  thinking  but  little 
of  what  Abner  was  saying. 

"  Dad  says  he's  sorry  he's  in  th'  place  he  is, 
fer  he'd  like  t'  'commodate  yeh  more  seem' 
he  an'  you'll  be  pretty  near  kin  'fore  long.  But 
he's  figgered  every  way  an'  don't  see  no  other 
way  out.  He's  got  t'  have  money  an'  'long 
as  yeh  can't  get  it  fer  him  he'll  have  t'  take  th' 
farm.  He's  sorry  but  he's  got  t'  do  it." 

"  Wa-al." 

313 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  He  says  though  'at  ef  yeh'll  jest  deed  th' 
farm  over  t'  him  without  his  goin'  t'  th'  ex 
pense  o'  foreclosin'  he'll  'low  yeh  what  it'ud 
cost  him.  Dad  wants  t'  be  uz  lib'ral  with  yeh 
uz  he  can." 

Ridgeby  chuckled. 

"  Wa-al,  wa-al  Abner  yeh  ought  t'  be  proud 
o'  havin'  sech  a  lib'rel  father.  He's  a  reg'ler 
philanthropist  ain't  he.  He'll  'low  me  what 
it  'ud  cost  t'  foreclose  ef  I'll  jest  deed  th'  farm 
right  over  t'  him  'thout  no  trouble." 

Ridgeby  chuckled  again  and  bobbed  his  head. 

"  Seems  t'  me  that's  a  lib'rel  offer,"  Abner 
said  gruffly.  "  He  don't  need  t'  do  that,  yeh 
know." 

"  Well  yeh  tell  yer  father,  Abner  'at  he  c'n 
rest  easy  on  th'  mortgage,"  he  said  severely. 
"  I've  made  arrangements  t'  pay  it  off." 

He  started  to  turn  away. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  he  said,  reaching  awk 
wardly  down  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat 
and  bringing  out  a  dainty  envelope.  "  Sibley 
said  I  was  t'  give  yeh  this,  ef  I  saw  yeh." 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

He  turned  away  with  another  chuckle,  leav 
ing  Abner  staring  after  him." 

Ridgeby  had  nearly  reached  the  little  red 
store  when  he  saw  Crazy  Bet  hurrying  toward 
him.  She  was  beckoning  to  him  excitedly.  The 
smile  had  died  from  her  face.  She  caught  at 
his  arm.  Raising  herself  on  her  toes  she 
whispered  hoarsely  in  his  ears: 

"  They  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an* 
died.  Yes,  they  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs 
an'  died." 

She  sprang  away  from  him  and  crouched 
trembling  in  a  fence  corner  moaning : 

"  They  laid  down  like  little  dogs  an'  died. 
Yes,  they  laid  down  jes'  like  little  dogs  an* 
died." 

The  words  affected  Ridgeby  strangely  and 
he  turned  on  his  way  half  fearfully. 

When  he  came  around  the  corner  of  the 
store  he  found  the  door  closed.  There  were  no 
signs  of  life  about  the  place.  He  knocked  upon 
the  door  and  waited.  It  was  not  opened.  Then 
he  knocked  again  and  louder.  Still  no  response. 
315 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Miss  Latey.     Oh,  Miss  Latey,"  he  called. 

The  crow  of  a  cock  away  off  in  the  distance 
was  the  only  answer  he  received. 

He  was  just  about  to  turn  away  when 
obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  he  tried  the  door.  It 
was  not  locked  and  he  opened  it  and  entered 
the  store.  The  old  lady's  knitting  was  resting 
on  the  sugar  barrel,  but  its  owner  was  no 
where  in  sight. 

"  Miss  Latey!  Oh,  Miss  Latey!  "  he  called 
again.  Still  no  answer. 

"  It's  mighty  queer,"  the  old  man  said  to  him 
self,  as  he  carefully  made  his  way  between  the 
tables  upon  which  the  meagre  stock  was 
stacked.  "  I  never  knowed  her  t'  go  way  no 
place.  Em'ly  '11  be  mighty  put  out  ef  she  don't 
get  this  basket." 

He  pushed  his  way  on  expecting  the  prim 
form  of  the  little  proprietress  to  descend  upon 
him  every  second.  He  kept  on  until  he  reached 
the  little  living  room  behind.  He  knocked 
timidly  upon  it.  A  deeper  silence. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  pushed  open  the 

316 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

door  and  taking  off  his  tattered  hat  peered  in. 
"  Eiliene!  "  he  called,  "  Eiliene!  " 

Something  of  the  old  Eiliene  there  seemed  to 
be  in  that  figure  fallen  by  the  bed.  The  wan 
cheeks  looked  fresher  than  they  had  for  a  long 
time.  Perhaps  the  tears  that  stained  the 
withered  cheeks  had  washed  out  some  of  the 
wrinkles.  The  thin  lips  were  parted  in  a  smile, 
and  the  eyes,  that  had  so  long  darted  fire,  had 
in  them  a  tender  look  of  love.  They  were 
turned  with  a  last  look  at  a  worn  daguerreotype 
that  was  clasped  in  her  hand. 

"Eiliene!"  he  called  again.  Bending  for 
ward  he  touched  her  cheek.  It  was  cold.  His 
eyes  fell  upon  the  daguerreotype.  He  started  a 
little  as  he  looked  at  the  faded  likeness.  As  he 
straightened  up  a  dreamy  look  came  into  his 
eyes,  his  rugged  face  softened,  he  brushed  his 
hard,  work  cracked  hands  across  his  eyes.  He 
turned  and  looked  out  the  door  as  though 
fearing  there  might  be  some  one  to  see.  He 
hesitated  a  moment,  then  bending  awkwardly 
he  kissed  the  blue  lips. 

317 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Well,"  he  said  with  a  sigh,  rising  up, 
"  P'raps  there  was  a  love  scrape  mixed  up  in 
it  somer's,  but  I'm  sure  I  didn't  know  nahthin' 
'bout  it." 

He  tenderly  lifted  the  body  and  placed  it 
upon  the  bed,  and  gently  drawing  the  picture 
from  the  stiff  fingers  he  put  it  into  his  pocket. 

"  I  wondered  what  she  did  with  'at  dagger- 
type  I  gin  her,"  he  said,  as  he  went  out  where 
the  birds  were  singing  and  the  trees  were  sigh 
ing  with  the  rising  wind. 

"  I  guess  I'd  better  git  Em'ly,"  he  added,  as 
he  started  slowly  across  the  fields. 


318 


Chapter    XXI 

FOR  an  hour  Newton  sat  on  the  steps 
watching  the  chips  fly  from  Lilt's  axe. 
Once  in  awhile  he  would  turn  and 
smile  in  at  Sibley.  He  had  but  little  to  say. 
There  was  pleasure  enough  in  simply  being 
able  to  look  about  him  and  see  something  be 
sides  blank  walls.  The  sunshine  shed  a  deli 
cious  warmth  about  him.  The  yellow  fields 
seemed  to  be  smiling  at  him.  The  leaves  on 
the  ground  seemed  to  be  rustling  a  welcome 
to  him.  The  very  cackling  of  the  hens  had  a 
note  of  good-fellowship  in  it.  The  gush  of 
life  was  leaping  in  his  veins  again.  His  heart 
was  wonderfully  light.  He  felt  as  though  he 
would  like  to  break  into  a  song.  He  felt  that  he 
was  a  victor  not  only  in  the  struggle  for  life 
but  in  the  struggle  for  love.  He  could  not  feel 
that  should  he  speak  again  he  would  be  met 
with  a  disappointment.  How  he  wanted  to 
speak  again.  He  had  spoken  again.  It  was 
with  his  eyes,  and  he  felt  that  Sibley's  eyes  had 
given  him  an  answer. 

319 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  You  seem  wonderfully  happy,  Lilt,"  he 
said,  after  awhile,  interrupting  Lilt's  whistle. 

Lilt  poised  his  axe  for  a  second  in  the  air, 
then  sent  it  down  with  a  will  that  split  an  oak 
knot  in  two. 

"  Yeh  don't  look  very  glum  yerself,"  he  re 
turned,  "  For  a  feller  'at's  been  worryin'  about 
goin'  t'  a  weddin'  he  didn't  want  t',  yeh  look 
mighty  chipper." 

Newton  smiled.  He  reached  down  and 
plucked  a  blade  of  withered  grass. 

"  When  am  I  going  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
attending  yours,"  he  asked.  "  I  am  more  in 
terested  in  that  just  now." 

Lilt  looked  over  at  him. 

"What's  th'  matter  with  doublin'  up  an' 
makin'  it  a  fam'ly  affair,"  he  asked. 

Newton  looked  a  trifle  grave. 

"  All  victories  are  not  so  easily  won  as 
yours,"  he  answered. 

"Hump!" 

Lilt  stopped  to  rest  for  a  moment. 

"  Yeh'd  better  take  th'  advice  yeh  give  me. 
320 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Take  yer  own  med'cine.  Keep  a  stiff  upper  lip 
an'  don't  get  down  hearted  whatever  happens. 
It  did  me  a'  heap  o'  good  an'  may  help  you." 

Newton  looked  at  the  ground  for  a  moment. 

"  Perhaps  I  will,  but  tell  me  when  are  you 
and  Sue  going  to  set  up  housekeeping?  " 

Reuben  had  come  around  from  the  front  of 
the  house.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  swung  it  at 
a  hornet. 

"  Ef  he'll  take  my  advice,"  he  quavered, 
"  He'll  get  merried  right  away.  He  needs 
somebody  t'  take  keer  of  him.  A  good  jawin' 
'11  do  him  good.  Oh,  I  know.  What  he  needs  is 
jawin'.  She'll  jaw  him.  She'll  jaw  him.  I 
know.  They  allus  does." 

Lilt  turned  on  him  suddenly. 

"  Say,  Rube,"  he  asked,  "  Were  you  ever 
married  ?  " 

Reuben  waved  his  hat  at  the  hornet  again 
and  grinned. 

"  Ef  yeh'll  take  my  advice  yeh'll  believe  I 
hev.  Hain't  I  here?" 

"  What's  that  got  t'  do  with  it?  " 
321 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Oh,  yeh'll  know  quick  enough.  She'll  jaw 
yeh.    They  allus  does. " 
"Did  she  jaw  you?" 

"  Did  she  jaw  me.  Well,  I  shud  think  they 
did.  First  one  I  merried  didn't  do  nahthin' 
but  eat  n'  jaw,  th'  next  didn't  do  nahthin'  but 
jaw  'n  eat.  But  th'  two  of  'em  want  a  sucum- 
stance  t'  th'  last  one.  Sh'  cud  eat  'n  jaw  at  th' 
same  time  an'  I  lit  out.  Oh,  I  know.  She'll 
jaw  yeh  good.  They  allus  does." 

Reuben  put  his  hat  back  on  his  head,  grinned 
maliciously  and  shambled  off  toward  the  barn. 
Lilt  laughed  uproariously. 

"  Poor  ole  Rube.  Yeh  must  'a  had  a  hard 
time  of  it,"  he  shouted. 

"  Are  you  not  frightened  at  the  prospect?  " 
Newton  asked. 

Lilt  rested  his  axe  on  a  log. 
"  Tell  yeh  what  'tis,  Newt,"  he  said,  "  I  like 
t'  hear  Sue's  voice  s'  much  'at  it  'ud  be  music 
t'  hear  her  jaw,"  he  grinned.     "  She  does  jaw 
now.     She  thinks  she's  awful  fierce  sometimes, 
but  it  sounds  t'  me  jes'  like  th'  scoldings  of  a 
sassy  wren.     It's  music,  that's  what  it  is." 
322 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  want  to  know  when  you  and  Sue  are 
going  to  be  married,"  Newton  asked  again. 

Lilt  went  to  work  again. 

"  Well  we're  ready  any  time.  I've  made  all 
'rangements  fer  th'  Jackson  place,  an'  Sue's 
little  fixin's  are  all  done,  but  there  hain't  no 
house  on  th'  farm  an'  I  hain't  got  no  money  t' 
build  one.  What's  th'  use  of  havin'  a  bird 
less  yeh've  got  a  cage  t'  put  her  in.  So  we've 
'bout  decided  we'll  have  t'  wait.  I'm  goin'  t' 
stay  with  Ridgeby  this  year  an'  try  an'  raise  a 
crop,  too.  It's  kind  o'  disappointed  us  both, 
but  I  guess  it's  th'  best  way.  I  guess  we  can 
wait." 

A  shadow  passed  over  Lilt's  face  but  it 
passed  in  a  moment.  Newton  chewed  for  a 
while  on  the  blade  of  grass  he  had  pulled.  He 
seemed  to  be  in  a  study. 

"  Lilt,"  he  said,  suddenly,  looking  up.  "  I 
have  decided  to  loan  you  the  money  to  build  you 
a  house." 

Lilt's  axe  was  high  in  the  air.  It  dropped  at 
his  feet. 

"  What's  that?  "  he  exclaimed. 
323 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  have  decided  to  lend  you  the  money  to 
build  you  a  house." 

Lilt  looked  at  him  thunderstruck. 

"  You  lend  me  th'  money  t'  build  a  house," 
he  stammered.  "  D'ye  mean  that  ?  " 

"  I  do." 

Lilt  walked  up  to  Newton  and  seized  his 
hand. 

"  Yeh're  goin'  t'  lend  me  th'  money  to  build 

a  house.     Why ."     He  hesitated.     "  Yeh 

allus  was  a  queer  feller  Newt.  There  was 
never  no  tellin'  what  yeh  was  goin'  t'  do  next. 
I  can't  understand  this.  Yeh  know  yeh  never 
let  us  think  yeh  was  anything  but " 

"  A  tramp  picked  up  in  the  road,"  Newton 
finished. 

"  No,  there  didn't  none  of  us  think  yeh  wuz 
a  tramp.  We  all  knowed  better'n  that.  Yeh 
wuz  above  all  of  us,  'cept  Sibley.  There  cudn't 
nobody  be  'bove  her,  less  'twas  an  angel." 

"  Well  never  mind  what  I  am  but  I  am  going 
to  lend  you  the  money  to  build  you  a  house." 

Lilt's  voice  was  husky. 
324 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  hain't  never  asked  no  questions,"  he  said, 
"  An'  I  hain't  goin'  t'  ask  none  now.  Don't 
seem  like  yeh  mean  what  yeh  say,  but  I  know 
yeh  do.  I  can't  thank  yeh  much.  It's  kind  o' 
upset  me  like."  He  stopped  and  looked  at 
Newton.  "  I  know  yeh  don't  want  to  be 
thanked.  I'm  goin'  t'  tell  Sue." 

He  turned  abruptly  and  stalked  down 
through  the  orchard. 

Just  then  Sibley  came  out  the  door.  She  had 
finished  her  morning's  work  and  had  dressed 
for  the  day.  She  sat  down  beside  him.  She 
looked  up  at  him.  Both  smiled  when  their  eyes 
met. 

Newton  was  sure  that  he  had  never  seen 
Sibley  look  prettier  than  she  did  just  then. 
There  was  a  half  blush  on  her  face,  a  loving 
light  in  her  eyes.  She  looked  at  the  ground  as 
though  she  was  afraid  to  let  her  eyes  meet  his 
again. 

"  Sibley,"  Newton  said  slowly,  "  I  believe  I 
am  strong  enough  to  walk  a  little  ways  if  I  had 
some  one  to  help  me." 

325 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

Sibley  flushed.     She  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  Come  then/'  she  said,  getting  up.  "  I  am 
strong.  I  will  help  you." 

They  turned  down  the  lane  until  they  came 
to  the  road.  Indian  summer  had  flung  her 
golden  banners  to  the  breeze  The  maple  trees 
had  decked  themselves  in  a  wealth  of  gold  and 
crimson.  The  copse  was  glorious  with  colour. 
The  sun  shone  down  lazily  and  the  marsh  mists 
went  up  to  meet  it.  A  heaviness  hung  in  the 
air.  A  fairy  influence  seemed  exerted  to  make 
everything  that  had  existence  seem  unreal. 
The  landscape  had  the  appearance  one  would 
expect  to  see  through  eyes  lotus  heavy. 

They  walked  slowly.  Newton  was  still  very 
weak  and  he  leaned  heavily  upon  Sibley's  arm. 
Neither  spoke.  They  did  not  need  to  speak. 
Each  one  felt  the  thoughts  the  other  would  like 
to  utter.  There  was  a  happiness  in  each  heart 
that  found  a  better  vent  in  silence  than  in 
words.  The  charm  of  the  day  wrought  its 
subtle  influence  about  them  and  distilled  its 
quiet  happiness  into  their  hearts.  Each  was  in 
a  revery. 

326 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

They  were  called  out  of  it  by  the  sounds  of 
horses'  feet  coming  up  behind.  They  stepped 
to  the  side  of  the  road.  A  covered  wagon 
drove  past.  A  swarthy,  hard-faced  man  was 
on  the  front  seat.  His  cold  eyes  were 
staring  straight  ahead  of  him.  By  his  side 
sat  a  woman  with  faded  cheeks  and  pale, 
washed-out  eyes.  But  there  was  a  softened 
expression  about  the  corners  of  her  mouth 
and  she  threw  eager  glances  now  and  then  at 
her  companion.  She  held  a  sleeping  baby  in 
her  arms.  Newton  recognised  the  driver.  It 
was  Hi  Simms.  The  wagon  came  to  a  stop. 
Simms  put  his  head  out  from  the  cover. 

"Glad  t'  see  yeh  gettin'  about,"  he  said 
gruffly.  "Sorry  yeh  got  hurt.  Gee,  up,  Gee !  " 

The  wagon  rumbled  on.  As  it  passed  a  friz 
zled  headed  youngster  put  his  head  out  of  the 
hole  in  the  back  of  the  cover.  There  was  a 
happy  grin  on  his  face. 

"  We're  goin'  t'  Aunt  Marcey's  in  Illinoy," 
he  shouted.  The  wagon  soon  disappeared  up 
the  road. 

Newton  smiled. 

327 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  I  suppose  that  is  Simms's  way  of  telling  me 
that  he  has  forgiven  me  for  having  whipped 
him.  I  wonder  what  has  changed  him?" 

"  Perhaps,  from  the  expression  I  saw  on  his 
wife's  face,"  Sibley  answered  slowly,  "  it  was 
love." 

"Yes,"  Newton  answered.  "Perhaps  it 
was  love." 

They  walked  on  a  ways  in  silence. 

"  Sibley,"  Newton  asked,  after  awhile,  "  Do 
you  remember  a  long  time  ago  when  we  walked 
along  this  road  together. 

Sibley  bent  her  head. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  softly.  "  It  seems 
ages  ago." 

"  Do  you  remember  how  dark  the  roadway 
was  that  night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  so  full  of  shadows." 

"  Are  there  any  of  the  shadows  left?  " 

Sibley's  head  bent  further  down  as  Newton 
looked  at  her.  They  had  just  come  to  the  top 
of  a  little  knoll.  Before  them  the  road  pitched 
down  into  a  swale.  Newton  stopped. 

328 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  Sibley,"  he  said  earnestly,  "  Look  up  at 
me." 

She  raised  her  eyes,  but  they  fell  again. 

"  It  was  standing  just  here,  Sibley/'  Newton 
whispered,  "  That  once  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that 
I  loved  you.  I  had  not  meant  to  say  it,  but  it 
rushed  unbidden  to  my  lips.  I  can  yet  hear 
your  cry  ringing  in  my  ears,  '  Don't/  It 
pierced  me  then  to  the  quick.  Its  sound  was 
like  a  knell.  Now  I  know  why  you  said  it. 
We  are  in  the  same  place,  again,  Love,  in  the 
same  place.  Then  it  was  night.  Now  it  is 
day.  Then  there  were  great  black  shadows 
all  about  us.  Now  the  sun  is  shining.  Now, 
if  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  loved  you  would 
you  say  '  Don't '  ?  " 

Sibley  looked  up  at  him.  There  were  tears 
glittering  in  her  eyes. 

"  Would  I  say  Don't/'  she  returned.  "  No. 
Did  I  want  to  say  it  again  I  could  not  do  it. 
But,  Oh,  Newton,  there  is  still  one  shadow 
about  us.  Until  yesterday  it  was  not  a  shadow. 
I  stopped  you  before  for  a  duty,"  she  hesitated, 
329 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

"  only  for  a  duty.  I  cared  not  for  your 
shadow.  I  did  not  know  who  I  was  myself. 
I  did  not  ask " 

Newton  stopped  her.  He  turned  his  eyes  up 
the  road. 

"  Wait  Sibley,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  I  know 
what  you  would  say.  I  will  clear  that  shadow. 
It  should  never  have  been  a  shadow  at  all.  It 
was  but  an  idle  whim.  I  scarcely  know  why  I 
pursued  it."  He  stopped  for  a  moment. 

"  Look  up  the  road,  Love,"  he  said.  "  Where 
does  it  come  from.  Look  down  it,  where  does 
it  end?" 

Sibley  shook  her  head. 

"  Away  up  that  road,  miles  and  miles  from 
here,  at  the  very  head  of  it  stands  my  home. 
It  is  a  beautiful  home.  It  has  stood  there  for 
two  generations.  Tall  elm  trees  wave  their 
branches  all  about  it.  A  great  evergreen  hedge 
hides  it  from  the  road.  The  doves  make  their 
nests  about  the  eaves.  The  road  climbs  a  hill  a 
little  way  in  front  of  the  house  and  disappears. 
When  I  was  a  little  fellow  I  used  to  wonder 
330 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

where  it  went  to.  Almost  the  first  thing  I  re 
member  is  looking  up  that  road  and  trying  to 
think  what  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill.  I 
have  sat  for  hours  looking  up  its  dusty  length, 
watching  every  turn  and  twist  until  it  reached 
the  top.  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  when  it 
reached  the  top  it  looked  back  at  me  before  it 
plunged  down  on  the  other  side  as  though  to 
invite  me  go  with  it.  I  used  to  dream  of  that 
road.  I  wondered  if  it  did  not  lead  to  fairy 
land.  What  was  hidden  away  off  there  toward 
the  west?  One  day  I  escaped  from  my  nurse 
and  got  out  into  the  road  and  followed  it  to  the 
top  of  the  hill.  To  me  then  that  point  was  the 
end  of  the  earth.  What  would  I  see  when  I  came 
to  the  top  of  the  hill?  Was  my  fairyland 
there?  Would  I  see  castles  and  palaces  and 
gardens  and  all  the  shiny  glories  of  elfland? 
I  remember  yet  how  my  heart  beat  as  I  panted 
toward  the  top.  When  I  reached  it  I  scarcely 
dared  look  ahead.  I  shut  my  eyes  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  opened  them  quickly.  The  road 
wound  its  way  down  the  hill,  crossed  a  culvert, 
331 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

climbed  another  hill,  and  disappeared  again. 
But  the  disappointment  only  added  to  the  fas 
cination  of  that  mysterious  road.  Where  did 
it  lead  to  ?  Where  did  it  end  ?  When  I  reached 
manhood  its  fascination  was  as  strong  as  in 
boyhood.  I  had  been  to  college,  had  followed 
the  roads  that  led  to  Rome,  had  explored  all 
the  odd  corners  of  the  earth,  but  my  old  mys 
tery  was  as  great  a  mystery  as  ever.  One  day 
I  found  myself  alone  at  the  old  home.  Father 
and  mother  had  gone  down  the  road.  They 
could  never  come  up  it  again.  The  thought 
came  to  me,  '  Did  I  go  down  the  road,  would  I 
ever  come  up  it  again  ?  '  I  sat  out  under  the 
elm  trees  after  the  funeral.  I  had  sent  all  the 
relatives  and  friends  away.  I  wanted  to  be 
alone.  I  sat  and  looked  down  the  road. 
Stronger  than  ever  the  thought  came  to  me, 
stronger  even  than  when  I  thought  it  must  lead 
to  fairyland,  'Where  does  it  lead  to?  Where 
does  it  end  ?  '  The  old  impulse  to  follow  it 
came  over  me  again,  powerful,  irresistible.  I 
went  out  the  gate,  locked  it,  and  half  mechani- 
332 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

cally  started  up  the  hill.  I  followed  it  for  days 
and  weeks,  on,  on,  on,  but  it  always  climbed  a 
hill  a  little  way  ahead  of  me  and  disappeared. 
I  followed  it  past  fields  and  factories  where 
men  were  working,  past  prisons  where  they 
were  suffering,  past  churches  where  they  were 
praying,  past  houses  where  they  were  dying. 
That  same  inexplicable  fascination  led  me  on. 
Where  does  it  lead  to?  Where  does  it  end? 
Sometimes  the  sun  shone  on  it.  Again  black 
clouds  lowered  over  it.  Sometimes  a  gentle 
rain  fell  upon  it.  Again  the  black  dust  blew  up 
from  it  in  clouds.  Sometimes  I  passed  a  wed 
ding  party  upon  it.  Sometimes  a  funeral.  I 
followed  it  on  and  on  until  it  has  led  me  to, 

.  5> 

Newton  stopped  and  looked  down  at  Sibley. 
He  opened  his  arms.  With  a  sigh  Sibley  felt 
them  closing  about  her. 

"  To  Heaven." 

A  feathery  cloud  that  had  been  sailing  in  the 
azure  above  them  passed  over  the  face  of  the 
sun.  A  shadow  fell  upon  them.  Sibley  half 
333 


The  ROAD  to  RIDGEBY'S 

shuddered.  Newton,  looking  away  across  the 
fields,  saw  a  man's  head  come  in  sight  above  a 
swale.  Though  it  was  far  away  Newton  knew 
it  was  Abner  Hawkins.  In  a  moment  he  dis 
appeared  and  the  cloud  sailing  lazily  on  its  way 
passed  from  the  sun  and  the  light  fell  upon 
them  again. 

THE  END 


334 


A    New    American    Novel    of   the    Civil    War. 

THE  GRAPES  OF  WRATH, 

A  Tale  of  North  and  South. 

BY  MARY  HARRIOTT  NORRIS, 
Author  of  The  Gray  House  of  the  Quarries,  etc. 

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A  really  great  American  novel  of  the  Civil  War,  which  will  appeal 
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reader. 
The  title  is,  of  course,  suggested  by  Mrs.  Howe's  line, — 

"  He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of  wrath  are  stored." 
The  story  is  developed  from  the  fortunes,  amid  the  vicissitudes  of 
war,  of  an  old  New  Jersey  family,  one  son  of  which  had  settled  in 
Virginia,  becoming  a  general  in  Lee's  army.  There  is  little  fight 
ing  and  no  cheap  heroics  in  the  book,  but  it  gives  a  clearer  picture 
and  a  more  intimate  and  impressive  understanding  of  what  the 
great  struggle  really  meant  to  Unionist  and  to  Confederate  alike 
than  many  a  military  history. 

MONONIA.      A  Love  Story  of  '48, 

BY  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY,  M.P., 

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this  volume,  in  which  he  writes  reminiscently  of  the  Ireland  of 
his  youth  and  the  stirring  events  which  marked  that  period. 
It  is  pre-eminently  an  old-fashioned  novel,  befitting  the  times  which 
it  describes,  and  written  with  the  delicate  touch  of  sentiment 
characteristic  of  Mr.  McCarthy's  fiction.  The  book  takes  its 
name  from  the  heroine,  a  charming  type  of  the  gentle-born  Irish 
woman.  In  the  development  of  the  romance,  the  attempts  for 
Ireland's  freedom,  and  the  dire  failures  that  culminated  at  Ballin- 
gary  are  told  in  a  manner  which  will  give  an  intimate  insight  into 
the  history  of  the  Young  Ireland  movement.  If  the  book  cannot 
be  considered  autobiographical,  the  reader  will  not  forget  that  the 
author  was  contemporary  with  the  events  described,  and  will  have 
little  difficulty  in  perceiving  that  many  of  the  principal  characters 
are  strongly  suggestive  of  the  Irish  leaders  of  that  day,  which 
gives  the  book  scarcely  less  value  than  an  avowed  autobiography. 

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VISITING  THE  SIN 

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forms  the  basis  of  the  story.  All  of  the  characters  are  vividly 
drawn,  and  the  action  of  the  story  is  wonderfully  dramatic  and 
lifelike.  The  period  is  about  1875. 

"  A  powerful,  well-sustained  story,  the  interest  in  which  does  not  flag  from 
the  first  chapter  to  the  last."—  Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  Unusually  powerful.  The  dramatic  plot  is  intricate,  but  not  obscure." — The 
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the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  a  story  written  for  the  story's  sake,  and  right 
well  written,  too.  Indians,  Dutch,  Frenchmen,  Puritans,  all  play  a  part.  The 
scenes  are  vivid,  the  incidents  novel  and  many."—  The  Independent. 

14  The  writing  is  cleverly  done,  and  the  old-fashioned  atmosphere  of  old  Knick 
erbocker  days  is  reproduced  with  such  a  touch  of  verity  as  to  seem  an  actual 
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Two    Remarkable    Volumes    of    Stories. 

ANTING  -  ANTING  STORIES, 

And  Other  Strange  Tales  of  the  Filipinos. 

BY  SARGENT  KAYME. 

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The  sub-title  to  this  volume  gives  a  suggestion  of  the  nature  of 
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quate  idea  of  their  wonderful  variety  and  charm.  It  is  hardly 
exaggeration  to  say  that  Mr.  Kayme's  treatment  of  the  life  of 
the  Filipinos  opens  to  our  literature  a  new  field,  almost  as  fresh 
and  as  original  as  did  Mr.  Kipling's  Indian  Stories  when  they 
first  appeared.  Like  Mr.  Kipling,  he  shows  his  perfect  familiarity 
with  the  country  and  people  he  describes ;  and  he  knows  how  to 
tell  a  good  story  straight  away  and  simply  without  any  sacrifice 
of  dramatic  effect  or  power. 

The  curious  title  to  the  volume  furnishes  the  motive  for  some  of 
the  most  striking  of  the  stories.  A  nting-A  nting  is  a  Filipino  word, 
used  to  denote  anything  worn  as  an  amulet,  with  a  supposed  power 
to  protect  the  life  of  the  wearer.  Often  a  thing  of  no  intrinsic  value, 
the  belief  in  its  efficacy  is  yet  so  real  that  its  owner  often  braves 
death  with  a  confidence  so  sublime  as  to  command  admiration,  if 
not  respect. 


WHEN  EVE  WAS  NOT  CREATED, 

And  Other  Stories. 

BY  HERVEY  WHITE,  author  of  Differences  and  Quicksand 
1 2mo.,  cloth,  with  a  cover  design  by  MARION  L.  PEABODY.    $1 .25 

Remarkable  stories  of  a  type  and  style  of  subjective  symbolism 
altogether  new  to  American  literature.  In  the  title  story  Svend, 
as  a  type  expressive  of  the  suppression  of  the  artistic  sense  in 
love,  where,  the  eye  being  satisfied  with  the  object,  the  heart,  the 
soul,  the  mind  of  the  man,  yet  goes  hungry  and  unsatisfied,  will  fix 
himself  in  the  reader's  mind  as  one  of  the  strongest  characters  of 
fiction.  The  other  stories  are  scarcely  less  noteworthy,  and  the 
book  as  a  whole  will  add  greatly  to  the  author's  already  high 
reputation  as  a  writer. 

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A   Remarkable    Study  of  Social   Life   in   America. 

DIFFERENCES 

BY  HERVEY  WHITE. 

I2mo,  cloth,  decorative,  320  pages.  $1.50 

"  It  is  treating  the  poor  as  a  class  and  employing  any  method  of 
handling  them  that  I  object  to.  ...  Why  can't  they  be  treated  as 
individuals,  the  same  as  other  people?  What  would  the  rich  think 
of  my  impertinence  if  I  went  about  the  world  treating  them  in  a 
peculiar  manner, —  as  if  they  were  not  real  people,  at  all,  but  only 
'the  rich,'  in  my  knowledge?  " —  Hester  Carr,  in  Differences. 

"  Differences  is  an  extraordinary  book. .  .  .  The  labor  question  is  its  primary 
concern,  and  the  caste  barrier  which  modern  conditions  have  erected  be 
tween  the  man  who  works  and  the  man  who  merely  lives.  This  is  no  new 
theme,  yet  Differences  is  new,  and  its  place  in  thoughtful  literature 
awaits  it.  The  only  argument  presented  by  Mr.  White  is  contained  in  the 
picture  he  spreads  before  us.  It  is  real,  and  set  out  with  bold,  firm  strokes, 
and  there  is  no  attempt  to  be  merely  artistic.  Genevieve  Radclilfe,  the  rich 
society  girl,  who  goes  to  work  charity  with  the  poor,  and  John  Wade,  the 
workman,  whose  situation  involves  all  the  tragedy  of  metropolitan  poverty, 
are  human,  if  they  be  not  typical.  They  embody  the  '  differences,'  and,  if 
they  do  not  point  the  way  to  equality,  it  is  because  American  civilization 
is  not  yet  ripe  for  them.  Withal,  the  book  is  not  a  tract.  It  is  worth  a 
thousand  such.  Informed  throughout  with  a  tender  simplicity,  a  sense 
of  the  beauty  of  common  things,  and  a  sincerity  that  brooks  no  question, 
it  carries  equal  appeal  to  the  student  of  economics  and  to  the  lover  of 
human  feeling."—  Philadelphia,  North  American. 

"  There  is  no  end  of  philosophy  in  books  about  the  poor  and  how  to  reach 
them  and  send  rays  of  sunshine  into  their  world;  but  few  books  get  at  the 
real  'Differences'  that  exist  between  the  wealthy  classes  and  the  poor  as 
does  Mr.  Hervey  White.  . .  .  Difference*  is  vitally  interesting,  both  as  a  story 
and  as  a  moral  lesson.  ...  It  is  written  with  wholesome  enthusiasm  and  an 
intelligent  survey  of  real  facts."—  Boston  Herald. 

"  The  method  employed  by  Mr.  Hervey  White  in  Differences  is  not  like  that 
of  any  author  I  have  ever  read  in  the  English  language.  It  resembles  strongly 
the  work  of  the  best  Russian  novelists,  it  seems  to  me,  and  particularly  that 
of  Dostoievsky,  and  yet  it  is  in  no  sense  an  imitation  of  those  writers :  it  is 
apparently  like  thetn  merely  because  the  author's  motives  and  ways  of 
thought  and  observation  are  like  them.  ...  I  have  never  before  read  any  such 
treatment  in  the  English  language  of  the  life  and  thought  of  laboring  people. " 
—  Joseph  Edgar  Chamberlin,  in  Boston  Transcript. 

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A    Powerful    Realistic    Novel    of    American    Life. 

QUICKSAND 

BY  HERVEY  WHITE. 

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Quicksand  is  a  strong  argument  against  a  certain  condition  which 
the  author  believes  exists  too  generally  in  American  society,  and 
is,  in  effect,  an  appeal  for  the  freedom  of  the  individual  in  family 
life.  It  is  a  powerful  tragedy,  developing  very  naturally  out  of 
the  effects  of  the  interference  of  parents  in  the  lives  of  their  chil 
dren,  and  of  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  affairs  of  each  other.  It 
becomes  therefore,  not  only  the  story  of  an  individual,  but  the 
life  history  of  an  entire  family,  the  members  of  which  are  portrayed 
with  astonishing  vividness  and  realism.  The  hero  of  the  book 
also  illustrates,  in  his  sufferings  and  failures,  the  unfortunate 
effects  of  a  too  narrow  orthodoxy  in  religion,  coupled  with  his 
family's  interference  with  his  growth  out  of  this  environment. 
Offsetting  the  tragedy  of  the  story  is  *  Hiram,"  the  "  hired  man  •' 
of  the  family  in  its  earlier  New  England  days,  in  whom,  par 
ticularly,  the  reader's  interest  will  centre.  Patient,  kindly,  faithful, 
and  uncomplaining,  he  is  indeed  the  real  "  hero  "  of  the  tale,  the 
only  one  free  from  the  unfortunate  environments  of  the  other 
characters,  yet  forced  indirectly  to  suffer  also  because  of  them. 
It  is  the  every-day  life  of  the  every-day  family  that  is  drawn;  and 
this  fact,  together  with  the  boldness  and  fidelity  of  the  drawing, 
gives  the  story  its  power  and  impressiveness. 

"  Hervey  White  is  the  most  forceful  writer  who  has  appeared  in  America  for 
a  long  generation."—  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

"  We  cannot  remember  another  book  in  which  lives,  thoughts,  emotions,  souls, 
and  principles  of  action  have  been  analyzed  with  such  convincing  power.  Mr. 
Hervey  White  has  great  literary  skill.  He  has  here  made  his  mark,  and  he  has 
come  to  stay.  . .  .  He  is  the  American  George  Gissing,  and  as  such  some  day 
he  will  have  to  be  taken  into  account."— .Boston  Herald. 

"It  should  insure  Mr.  White  a  permanent  place  in  the  critical  regard  of  his 
fellow-countrymen.  .  .  .  Few  characters  as  strong  as  that  of  Elizabeth  Hinckley 
have  ever  been  drawn  by  an  American  author,  and  she  will  remain  in  the  mind 
of  the  most  assiduous  novel  reader,  secure  of  a  place  far  above  that  held  by 
most  of  the  puny  creations  of  the  day."—  Chicago  Tribune. 

•'  It  is  wrought  of  enduring  qualities.  Few  novels  are  so  sustained  on  an  ele 
vated  plane  of  interest."—  Philadelphia  Item. 

"It  is  a  novel  that  takes  hold  of  one,  and  is  not  the  sort  of  book  that,  once 
begun,  can  be  laid  down  without  being  finished."—  Indianapolis  News. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  by  the  publishers  on  receipt  of  price. 

Small,  Maynard  &  Company,  E{,EPlfy 


ITS  STORY 


By  MAX    BENNETT    THRASHER 

With  an  Introduction  by  BOOKER     T.    WASHINGTON 

I2mo,     cloth,    decorative,    248    pages,    50    Illustrations,    $1.00 
^—  —  ^  _  i^^__ 

'"THE  TUSKEGEE  NORMAL  AND  INDUSTRIAL 
1  INSTITUTE,  at  Tuskegee,  Alabama,  is  one  of  the  most 
uniquely  interesting  institutions  in  America.  Begun,  twenty  years  ago, 
in  two  abandoned,  tumble-down  houses,  with  thirty  untaught  Negro 
men  and  women  for  its  first  students,  it  has  become  one  of  the  famous 
schools  of  the  country,  with  more  than  a  thousand  students  each 
year.  Students  and  teachers  are  all  of  the  Negro  race.  The  Prin 
cipal  of  the  school,  Mr.  Booker  T.  Washington,  is  the  best-known 
man  of  his  race  in  the  world  to-day. 

In  "  Tuskegee  :  Its  Story  and  its  Work,"  the  story  of  the  school  is 
told  in  a  very  interesting  way.  The  author  has  shown  how  Mr.  Wash 
ington's  early  life  was  a  preparation  for  his  work.  He  has  given  a 
history  of  the  Institute  from  its  foundation,  explained  the  practical 
methods  by  which  it  gives  industrial  training,  and  then  he  has  gone  on 
to  show  some  of  the  results  which  the  institution  has  accomplished. 
The  human  element  is  carried  through  the  whole  so  thoroughly  that 
one  reads  the  book  for  entertainment  as  well  as  for  instruction. 

COMMENTS. 

"  All  who  are  interested  in  the  proper  solution  of  the  problem  in  the  South  should 
feel  deeply  grateful  to  Mr.  Thrasher  for  the  task  which  he  has  undertaken  and  performed 
so  well.  '  —  BOOKER  T.  WASHINGTON. 

"  Should  be  carefully  and  thoughtfully  read  bv  every  friend  of  the  colored  race  in 
the  North  as  well  as  in  the  South."  —  New  York  Times. 

"The  book  is  of  the  utmost  value  to  all  those  who  desire  and  hope  for  the  develop 
ment  of  the  Negro  race  in  America."  —  Louisville  Courier-Journal. 

"  Almost  every  question  one  could  raise  in  regard  to  the  school  and  its  work,  from 
Who  was  Booker  Washington?  to  What  do  people  whose  opinion  is  worth  having  think 
of  Tuskegee?  is  answered  in  this  book."  —  New  Bedford  Standard, 

For  sale  at  all  Bookstores,  or  sent,  postpaid,    on   receipt  of  price,   by 
the  publishers, 

SMALL,    MAYNARD    &    COMPANY,    BOSTON, 


